Land of legends and secrets
by 42Lia
Summary: Do you believe in magic? They didn't either. Not one. Not until they came across that strange girl in a blue dress haunting this more than suspicious castle on the Anglo-Scottish border. None of the 11 countries believed in magic. Nor could they ever imagine that "games" could be this dangerous. Shall we play?
1. Prologue

Land of Legends and Secrets …

**Prologue**

* * *

**AN: Hey Everyone! My deepest apologies but my computer went haywire and I'll have to take it to a computer technician … right during the Christmas break! Good luck me in finding someone during that time! So yeah, all my files are in my busted computer and so are the next chapters for my other stories **** I am currently borrowing my mum's computer and because I can't wait until I get my PC sorted, I'm using hers to write this new story. Yes, I know, I should not start yet another story but blame it on the damn virus that attacked my computer! For now … just enjoy this until I get back to my other fics! And tell me if you like it and whether it's worth continuing! Cheers and good job everyone in surviving 2012! Guess Scottie did not kill everyone after all! Yet :p (reference to my other fic "What it means to be a Big Brother")**

* * *

The man in white glided elegantly down one of the many halls of the castle. And what a castle! With over 100 bedrooms, 20 kitchens (scattered all over the castle and some from which emanated suspicious smells), 33 bathrooms and toilettes (without counting the 67 en suite ones of the 67 rooms out of 100), 24 offices or studies (some of which having recently been modernised or turned into high-tech computing rooms), 3 large living rooms (the largest located on the first floor as to welcome guests … assuming they ever got guests), 11 dining rooms (three of them banned or exclusive to certain … people), halls and corridors of all sizes and all shapes (some even upside down or sideways and some would make you feel seasick … if you're lucky. Some might just opt to drop you down into one of the many cellars and dungeons … or the attics but then you'd be sent upwards. Unless you already were upside down … Are you getting confused yet?), and an unaccountable number of other rooms with various purposes or functions … if any. Some of those rooms might just exist for the sole sake of being! And some might just vanish only to reappear several centuries later out of boredom. Yes, because rooms can get bored. Oh, and try not to get swallowed by the wine red warm carpet that covers every inch of floor in the castle (the colour might change in some rooms depending of their moods).

Paintings and carvings ornament almost every wall and ceiling of the castle (some even have gold or precious stone additions to the decoration). Some paintings large and some small, some empty and some overly present, some sealed and some you just can't get rid of! The carvings are such that it feels they might jump out of their stone frame and attack you. I say 'attack' because most of them are of strange creatures who seem to watch you, preying on the moment you look away to snatch you. This also applies to the many statues roaming the fort. Armours and statues line up in various places of the castle, and sometimes decide to move to the room next door. It can be quite a noisy procession at times. Only two statues never move or emit a sound. The two only statues that stand proudly in the grand hall of the ground floor:

One is a woman, beautiful but fierce. She could be mistaken as the personification of War or even more so, of Victory as she holds her head high and proud, looking down upon any enemy. Spear in one hand, shield in the other, sword at her waist, axe held in her back, only her head remains free from her armoured up body. Thus proudly exhibiting the gorgeous face, carefully sculpted, of this fierce warrior. And what a beauty she is! Her grace could rival that of Aphrodite, her hair tied in multiple braids that fly around her like an insane fire. Only the intense colour of is missing to the cream white of the stone, toning down her fiery aura. Facing her, a taller and broader figure of a man. Cloaked down to his ankles, allowing only a large staff to be seen from under his cloak, he seems to be leaning forward on his magical stick incrusted with strange symbols. Shoulders forward, and head held low, unlike the woman, hooded and hidden with only his eyes showing. Celtic carvings ornament the lines of the cloak up to the large hood. Despite the simplicity of the man's clothing, expensive rings and bracelets are carved on his large strong hands. The complete opposite of the woman, yet he gives out the same imposing feeling of power, knowledge and strength. The two are gazing in each other's eyes that are made out of precious stones. The woman's intense emeralds meet the deep sapphires of the man and the electrifying tensions and emotions between the two has been carefully studied by the artist as he carved their expressions. If individually they seem imposing, together the two are simply terrifyingly dangerous yet … yet … the respect for one another manages to leak out from all the fire.

Further up the grand hall, in which chandeliers of coloured crystals chime gently from the carved ceiling, said carvings deploying mythological scenes or strange and unknown stories forgotten by modern times, past the large stairs (assuming the stairs deigned not move around at random), far up in the eastern corner of the hall, a large blue door stands quietly. Of course, you would expect any normal door to obviously remain quiet. But not here. Not in this castle. Here, the doors are chit chatty and always like to mess around, changing their colours or their numbers, laughing and teasing you. In contrast, a silent door like this one is just unimaginable. But this blue door never speaks a word, firmly locked and sealed away with a lock made of crystal. And nobody is foolish enough to unlock it. Why so? Because some things are best kept locked away and forgotten. Legends and secrets can ever be so if one never unlocks the truth. Because sometimes … the truth can be painfully … real.

The man in white glided elegantly down one of the many halls of the castle. He froze as he heard the doorbell. A large toothy grin stretched his pale lips, his red eyes shimmering of delight as he snapped his gloved white fingers. The house seemed to suddenly come to life as chatter and hurried noises invaded the castle. Fires arose in the very many chimneys, chimes and metallic clashes could be heard from the kitchens, water flowed down the intricate plumbing system like it hadn't for months, ushered voices and moving furniture resonated from the rooms, floating candles appeared out of thin air and chandeliers and colourful electric lights lit up the house almost to blind it, freshly prepared, warm food appeared on the shining silvers of the most luxurious dining room of the castle. All the while, as the castle prepared itself, the man skipped down the halls and corridors, undisturbed as some vanished under his step leaving him to walk down through thin air as he reached for the large strong wooden doors of the castle. Large doors made of oak tree, polished to a perfect shine but old beyond time itself, with large golden rings serving as handles. Big large golden rings … of 20 centimetres of diameter, three inches thick and made out of 100% pure gold. The doors were so large and heavy it would take at least two elephants to budge them. The man's grin never faltered, perfect white teeth all out, his silvery hair combed back elegantly on his scalp, dressed entirely in white as he dusted away a speck of dust from his butler's suit. His polished white shoes resonated with every step he made with a skipping sound that was surprising to hear since the floor was covered in soft red carpeting. He drew out his golden pocket watch, eyed the three arrows of clock and his smile widened as he noticed one of the arrows had landed on the last number of the watch … 13. His red eyes gleamed as he pocketed his watch away and snapped his fingers, silently ordering the castle to quiet down. And it did. Not a sound could be heard as the man finally stopped in front of the large doors.

"Late, late, late … I'm late …" the man hummed in amusement before snapping his fingers, motioning the doors to open. Late? Indeed he was. Due to the agitation and the sudden rush the castle underwent, his mistress had to wait outside in this snowy night for more than ... 0,00456 seconds. Indeed, quite late. The man shook his head in self scolding though his wide grin never faltered. He bowed respectfully as the imposing, unmovable doors slowly opened, creaking slightly from their old age.

Outside, the crystal white landscape of mountains and frozen lochs revealed itself, bordered by a surrounding forest that sealed the castle away from the curious eye, snow fairies and nymphs dancing among the falling snowflakes, four figures stood in the doorway. Two men and two women. They ushered words to each other until it was decided that only two would walk past the doors, leaving the remaining two to turn around and walk away in the storming snow. The man in white smiled charmingly at his mistress as he saw her walk in with her usual blue dress. Her beautiful golden hair was shorter than last time. It seems he would have to remedy this. Her expression was nothing like the first time he had seen her walk through those doors … so many years ago …

* * *

_The man in white glided elegantly down one of the many halls of the castle. And what a castle!_

…

_He frowned slightly at the sudden knocks on the doors. Outside a blizzard howled in anger. Had his masters changed their minds? He snapped his pale fingers and the house suddenly came to life buzzing in preparation for the newcomers._

…

_The man glanced at his golden disc, its 13 numbers diligently in place, three arrows spinning like an insane compass. One of them stopped on the only number that isn't a number. His golden panel indeed has 13 number plus one! Plus one zero. A number that isn't one. And all three arrows froze altogether on that single fake number. Red eyes blazed in sudden worry and he accelerated his steps towards the awaiting doors._

…

_He wasn't late. In fact, you could say he was in advance as he managed to stroll faster than time and snapped his finger before the first knock could hit the doors._

…

_Four figures stood in the icy storm, shivering and with grim faces. Well, not quite. One face wasn't grim. It was … resolute and strong. The man narrowed his eyes on the four. Only four. He didn't ask; however. That would unqualified for a servant to question his masters. Bowing low, he watched them all walk in, huddled together from the cold. Two remained drawn back, watching the girl in blue as she looked around the place, her wide emerald eyes growing curious by every second. The fourth, tallest of them all, held her protectively by her shoulders, keeping her covered in a dark brown fur (probably deer skin), his own emerald eyes narrowing on the man in white. The servant nodded, acknowledging the silent order and hurriedly guided them to the rich dining room where warmth and food awaited the four. With every one of his bouncy steps, the man in white would glance at the blond girl and her blue dress … or was it a tunic? She was lovely no matter the wear. Lovely indeed … but so sad. Her eyes were curious but strangely empty and lacking their past light. She kept close to the taller man holding her. Occasionally whispering to him and he would force a smile on his grim face whenever she did._

_The man in white seated them and finally allowed himself to address them:_

"_Is the meal to your liking Masters?"_

_A dismissive nod of the red hair answered, the other two remained silent as if brooding over some rather dark thought and the white butler could only wonder just how bad those thoughts were. He earned a small smile from the small girl in blue, her hair long and braided, eyes shying away yet constantly shooting curious glances at him. He leaned in closer, sweet smile on his lips but careful not to anger the watching pairs of emeralds of the other three, and whispered softly in the girl's ear._

"_My Lady … What a delight to meet you. May I enquire on your name?"_

_She frowned slightly, unsure but her expression suddenly changed as a smirk greeted her lips, teasing and downright annoying. She tilted her head sideways, motioned him closer._

"_I'm no lady, bunny."_

_The man frowned at the odd answer but didn't question seeing the knowing smile of his new mistress. What an interesting lady. Quite._

* * *

The butler smiled at the memory his eyes never leaving the two figures calmly eating their meal.

"Is the meal to your liking, Masters?"

Again the dismissive nod of the red haired man but his grim expression was long gone. It seemed like they were both simply moving out of habit. Although …

"Always a delight to see you my Lady." The man in white whispered tauntingly at the blond woman. She paused her meal and a smirk grew on her face.

"I'm no lady, bunny."

The man smiled back, his growing shadow wobbling gently in the dim candle light. Indeed, his mistress could be quite mischievous. Ah … but she is indeed no ordinary lady. Who would be when …

"May I enquire on the length of your stay?"

"I'll be leaving in a few days" the man replied, his eyes settling down on the woman, caring and enquiring. She smiled, caressed his hand as if to convince her that she would be fine without him. Her smile grew ever wider but her eyes ever emptier.

"The usual, bunny. The usual." Came her soft reply before she sipped her tea.

…

Indeed. Who could ever be an ordinary lady …

…

"As you wish, My Lady."

…

… In a world of constant wonder?


	2. England's sick day

**Chapter 1: England's Sick Day**

Could this day get any worse? No! Don't say that! Remember, whenever you say that, things always get worse! … But really! Can it really get any worse, damn it?! England could almost swear that from his point of view, things could not get any worse. But then again, he had been wrong before. More than once.

A sudden churning of his stomach made the personification of England groan quietly. Not that he would have been heard in the chaos of the room. Venice's world conference was going like all world conferences usually go … haywire. Not that England was one to complain. He usually participated in the crazy fighting and loud shouting and the occasional murdering of France. But not this time. This time, England just didn't feel like getting into an argument and actually hoped nobody would bother him until the conference ends … which might take a while considering Germany seemed too busy arguing with America and won't be yelling order back to the room for a long while. England sighed as he drew out his mobile phone, the cute Hello Kitty ornament on it curled his lips into a soft smile and his gaze briefly switched to China. Last Christmas, Hong Kong had given him this as a gift from China. Although Arthur knew the older man would deny every word of it, it was still sweet from him to bother giving the English nation a present. Maybe he was starting to forgive him a little?

Arthur watched as China was now in a heated argument with Russia and Japan. Glancing away, the emerald gaze narrowed on the Bad Touch Trio in a full blown fight. Arthur suddenly shifted his body sideways, avoiding the flying Frenchman who went crashing head first against the wall. Oh, he's up again. And he looks pissed. Arthur's green eyes followed the fuming French blond as he jumped to strangle Prussia, Spain swinging his axe around like a mad man. Nothing unusual.

Flipping his phone open, Arthur smiled softly at his background screen. Four pairs of emeralds stared back at him. One missing but Arthur didn't mind. He pressed the speed dial button. There is only one number he would ever put on speed dial.

"Aye? Wha'dya wan'?" A thickly accented Scottish voice groaned softly. Arthur chuckled. Looks like his brother had been out drinking with Patrick last night. Not surprising.

"Artie? You there?" Arthur heard the frown of worry in Alistair's voice.

"Yes, I'm here. I need you to call Will. I … I don't feel well."

A realising silence answered the blond before the Scotsman finally spoke back.

"You want me to come and get you, lad?"

"No. It just started. I'll be fine. I'll change my flight and be home before midnight."

"I could …"

"Al, I don't want to cause a commotion. You know how the others will react. Just let me fly home."

"… Call me if you change your mind."

Arthur didn't feel offended when he got hung up on and simply pocketed his phone, letting out a resigned sigh. This was going to be one hell of a long day.

…

"Eeennnnglaaannd! You're not listening to me again!"

Arthur jumped in surprise at the sudden outburst of his American friend in his ear. Glaring green daggers at the pouting America, Arthur snapped back with a hiss.

"Did you have to yell in my ear, wanker? I'm not deaf!"

America's grin rushed back to his face as soon as he caught England's attention. Bursting in a loud boastful laugh, Alfred swung his strong arm around the Briton's smaller frame. Arthur didn't bother removing his arm. He just couldn't be bothered with all this shite today. He didn't even listen to Alfred's loud reply. It might have been worth listening. Probably wasn't. Would most likely have started a pointless argument with the tosser. And the strain tearing Arthur's body just told him that today was not the best of days to get stressed out and angry. So, he didn't bother and instead, diligently followed the others as Feliciano guided them through the Venetian canals. Objective of the day? To buy Venetian masks because Feliciano had organised to set the world conference at the same time as the music festival.

* * *

_Earlier that day …_

_Arthur sighed, hang up his phone. This was going to be one hell of a long day. Only a miracle would be able to interrupt the chaotic mess of this UN meeting. Arthur honestly didn't think he would manage to escape this conference early and was cursing every passing second. All he wanted was to leave! His stomach kept twisting itself painfully, he had to hold back the will to vomit and his nausea, his killing headache wasn't helping, and his entire body felt like burning up like a volcano. A sudden stinging pain in his arm made the blond gasp. Luckily, everyone else was too busy to pay any attention to him. The thousand sharp invisible needles that seemed to pierce through his arm and elbow became unbearable. __Damn … It shouldn't hurt that much this early in the day. Arthur closed his eyes, breathing slowly and forcing his mind to ignore the pain. Keep calm and carry on … keep calm and carry on … keep calm … How can I bloody keep calm with all those bloody noisy bastards around me?! Sighing, Arthur resigned himself to endure the pain until the conference settled down. He didn't expect someone else besides Germany or Switzerland could calm down the infernal chaos. Nor did anybody else either._

_The sudden loud outbursts that resonated through the building were about to prove England wrong. Everyone in the conference room silenced down. Not because they wanted to. Or because they had to. Simply because you couldn't bloody hear them, or anything for that matters, above the loud Italian arguments approaching the room. Everyone stared in shock as Romano barged in the room while yelling at his phone in thickly accented Italian dialect from Naples. Following after him, two beautiful girls were in a heated debate with one another and although it sounded like they were only talking, their voices were way too bloody loud for just a simple discussion. You could mistake the two girls for feminine versions of Romano and Feliciano, each having similar hair curls. One of them wore the same kind of frown as Romano and her whole being cried out danger. Dressed in a dark suit, England could even spot the shadowed shape of a gun under her suit jacket, wavy dark brown hair cut to shoulder length and held under a Borsalino. She seemed angry and spoke too fast for anyone to follow. And it sounded like some other dialect from the South. The other girl had a more calming expression and resembled Feliciano in her care-freeness. She wore traditional country-side clothing, mainly red themed, her long brown hair braided and resting on her shoulder. She spoke in a different dialect from the dark girl but they both seem to understand each other perfectly. Tanned to a crisp, tall and attractive, the girls caused many nations' eye to turn._

"_Basta!" Romano growled angrily in his phone before shutting it and grumbling to himself. He soon joined the girls in their heated debate until all three got their voices tuned down by Feliciano's sudden outburst as came barging after them, wide grin on his face._

"_CIAOOOOO EVERYONE!"_

_The Italians were loud to start with but Feliciano managed to be even louder and cover all of the other's voices. The girls shrugged and went to sit down while Romano stayed by his brother, keeping a watchful eye on the careless Northern half of Italy. An overly excited grin stretched on Feliciano's lips._

"_Alora, I'm sure you are all wondering why we are hosting this UN meeting in la mia Venezia instead of Roma! See, I was making pasta when I realized that I would miss the Festivale della Musica in Venezia because I would be hosting a meeting, and Germany came to help because I forgot the dates of the meeting again and Fratello was visiting Spain, and so I called Vatican to ask him if he knew where Fratello was because Spain said he had left, but Vatican got angry again because I interrupted him during masse and because he doesn't like Fratello, Germany kept yelling at me, ve, sorry Ludwig! Because I got distracted again by the pasta and then Fratello came back and he yelled at Germany and when I told him Vatican got angry, he went to see him and now Vatican exiled himself in St Pietro, Sardegna and Sicilia came over for pasta and we talked, oh, and Ludwig left after the meeting was ready, but then Fratello said I could change the meeting to Venezia instead of Roma and then everyone could enjoy the festival all together! Ve! Isn't it great? So we changed the location and Germany got angry because it was a last minute change but France said it was ok, and I wanted to see the festival and I wanted to show it to Germany and Japan and Big Brother France, and Spain, and Prussia, and …"_

"_Oi, Stupido!" Romano spoke up, interrupting his chit chatty brother. Feliciano blinked for a second as he turned to his brother._

"_Ve?"_

"_You're getting sidetracked."_

"_Oh! Ve, grazie Fratello! Overall … Let's have fun!"_

_The dumbstruck silence that followed probably wasn't due to Feliciano's plan to change this conference into a cultural event holiday, in fact most nations would be delighted about this news. Had they been able to follow anything of the fast tracked speech of Italy. It seems only Romano was able to follow his brother. What little England understood was that the two girls were Sardinia and Sicily, Vatican was pissed off, and that Feliciano had managed to change the world conference to suit his desire to enjoy the music festival. Oh, yeah, and something about pasta too._

_Arthur sighed, dropping his head down on the table as he tried to ignore the horrible sensation going through his body. He could almost feel his insides melt like magma, his vision started to blur and he hoped nobody would notice how sweaty he was, his entire being burnt although Arthur new that his touch was probably ice cold. Why did it have to be today? He was still fine yesterday! Why now? The hammering in his head caused Arthur not to realize when his name was called. Keeping his forehead pressed against the cool surface of the table, his eyes started to close as he tried to stop the constant shivering of his body._

"_ARTURO!"_

_Arthur nearly felt his already strain heart stop completely when he heard Feliciano's loud voice in his ear and the Italian's face only inches away from his face._

"_God! You scared me Feliciano!" The Englishman snapped back, causing the Italian to retreat frightfully back to his brother. Arthur rolled his eyes at the gesture. When would Italy stop being so scared of him? They weren't scared of him before … well, that was a long time ago … Ever since WW1 … Arthur shook his head, dismissing the negative thoughts. There was no point in thinking about this now._

"_A-Are you ok, bastard?" Romano's shaking question drew Arthur back to reality and he stared at the worried Italians._

"_Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"_

"_Ve? B-but we've been calling you for a while and I thought you might be dead because you didn't move and you were mumbling something and PLEASE DON'T KILL ME!" Feliciano yelled in panic as he saw Arthur's face darken threateningly._

_England sighed. He hadn't meant to scare the Italians but he didn't want people to ask about his illness. Should he lie? No. They'll get even more suspicious …_

"_H-hey England? Dude, don't scare us like that, man!"_

"_Mon lapin, are you sick?" Arthur tried shoving away the stubborn Frenchman who was trying to touch his forehead to check is temperature. He could not let France know, even less when the bastard was acting like a mother-hen!_

"_I'm fine, get off me frog …" Arthur had to control his voice so that they wouldn't notice it cracking._

"_You nearly passed out … England-san …"_

"_I said, I'm fine! I'm just a bit tired … Scot's been spending the past couple of weeks drinking with Ireland and Wales is gone god knows were again and North had nightmares every night for the past three days so I had to stay awake and calm her down which is why I barely got a blink of sleep."_

_Only few nations understood who England was referring to but they all got reassured by the blonde's grumpy explanation. America's face turned into a relieved grin as he hugged-crushed England … well, tried since England easily avoided the attack out of habit. He noticed France looked a bit skeptic but the blond Latin said nothing. Arthur sighed in relief. At least, his siblings were a good excuse to throw whenever he needed to. Not that he lied, he didn't. Scotland had been drinking with Ireland, Wales had gone god knows were with his damn dragon and Northern Ireland had been having nightmares recently. But Arthur might have exaggerated the impact on his condition. This kind of thing … is actually a norm back in the British Isles. And Arthur was used to it. Although, why would he ever tell that to anyone? Knowledge is power and Arthur was not about to reveal all of his family's secrets._

* * *

And somehow, after all the drama around him had gone, Arthur quickly found himself getting dragged around Venice in search for Venetian masks. Why the fuck … Probably America's bloody idea.

"Inghilterra?"

Arthur snapped out of his daydream, to realise that they had already arrived to the shop and Feliciano was watching him cautiously, but with a hint of worry in his hazelnut eyes. Arthur smiled warmly at the brunet before switching his eyes to the artworks before him. He didn't notice the shocked expression or the soft red hue on the Italian's face, too busy eyeing the masks. Feliciano had mentioned a masked ball tonight, hadn't he? And fireworks too for the opening of the festival. That sounds like quite the show. Too bad he'd have to miss it …

Arthur's ears caught the various conversations between their fellow nations. They were only a small group but you could only here them in the shop. America and Russia were arguing over a mask. Typical. Those two can be quite childish. China and Japan were discussing and comparing the Venetian masks to the one they have in their own countries. Germany was trying to contain Belarus from ripping America's eyes out and Arthur even recognised the soft voice of Canada trying to appease the argument. Strangely enough, he noticed Italy stayed quiet the entire time, only watching him with a confused and curious expression. Emeralds met ambers, and Arthur watched the uncomfortable fidgeting of his guide. Clearly Feliciano still felt uneasy around him. Arthur sighed in defeat, turning back to the masks. At least, the pain in his body had settled down … for now.

His eyes narrowed on a particularly beautiful piece. Entirely black, the mask was in the shape of two large wings with silver lining and covered the upper half of the face. Small blue pearls hung from one side along with a silver chain, and a large sapphire ornamented the mask's forehead. It was beautiful. And Arthur wanted it. But … That mask isn't …

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" the soft, awed voice of Feliciano whispered. Arthur nodded back. He didn't dare looking but he could guess Feliciano's awed expression. The kind of expression the Italian always got whenever faced with art or beauty.

"It's expensive though …" sadness sounded in the tanned man's voice. Arthur frowned slightly. He hated the sound of sadness in such a cheerful voice. It didn't suit Veneziano.

"Do you want it?"

"Ve?"

"I'll buy it for you. If you want it."

The awkward silence that followed made the blond regret ever speaking his thought. A shy voice eventually replied.

"Why? You should buy it for yourself … and I don't have the money to …"

"I didn't ask for repayment. I don't mind buying it for you. I know your economy is a bit …"

They both brooded darkly at the world's situation. Italy was in a state of disaster, not as bad as Greece (who couldn't even afford to come to the meeting) but still, Italy stayed in one of the most suffering countries of Europe from the economic crisis. England was a bit better off and his economy was slowly getting back on track. Also, unlike Italy who lost all its riches from being conquered constantly, Arthur had been able to save up some of his earnings as he conquered others. Not England the country but Arthur the individual. So, really, he could afford one mask if it could bring back a smile on Feliciano's clueless face.

"Grazie but …" He didn't have time to finish than Feliciano was interrupted by Belarus barging through Germany and into the shop like a crazy devil. Both America and Russia yelped like little girls and on a common accord they ran away from the female nation. Germany was groaning at the hit he got before trying to chase after them and hopefully stop them before they break down the shop. China and Japan only watched with mild fascination, not daring getting involved. Feliciano panicked, worried for his shop and the potential destruction of the masks but he soon retreated away from the violence … and because Belarus is ve-scary! He blinked as he looked around and noticed Arthur was missing.

"Ve? Where's Arthur?"

Both China and Japan shrugged dismissively.

"Maybe he went out for a walk, aru?"

"Ve? Alone? He can't! He'll get lost! What if he falls in the water! ARTUROOOOO!" Feliciano screamed as he rushed out to search for the missing Brit, leaving behind three shocked faces.

"Aiya … What was that about, aru?" China frowned in slight concern, though he wasn't sure why.

Japan shrugged, impassive as always and none noticed the worried expression of Canada.

* * *

Arthur struggled to catch his breath. Damn! It just had to come back now, didn't it? And it's even worse than before. England had almost felt like he would have vomited right in front of Feliciano, had they not been interrupted by Belarus. Thank god for that! It gave him a chance to skip away and find somewhere quiet to rest without causing worry to everyone. Arthur stumbled to his knees and decided that he didn't have the strength to get back up. Leaning down against the corner of a building, he hoped he could rest until the pain passes. Closing his eyes, Arthur tried to ignore the burning of his lungs and his hitched breathing. Cold sweat ran down his temples, he was constantly shaken by nervous shivers. He felt cold but he was boiling hot, his stomach and insides twisted themselves like there was nothing there anymore but a lump of melting flesh. The loud hammer in his head and his blurred vision … these symptoms shouldn't be this strong this early … great … now he really needs to get home as soon as possible. He had tried to stay until the ball but …

Reaching for his phone, Arthur struggled with the buttons and his blurry vision. He suddenly dropped unconscious on the sidewalk, phone in hand, his finger reaching for speed dial but he never got a chance to call.

* * *

"Hey! Isn't it him, over there?" Prussia called, pointing over the bridge in the distance.

Feliciano rushed to the bridge and leaned forward, peering in the distance. A wide grin of relief greeted his lips. Next to him, his worried brother, and two worried France and Spain looked over. All recognised the golden blond laying asleep on the side of a canal.

"ARTUROOOOO!"

Arthur never thought something could drag him out of his unconscious. But the hammering loud voice of Feliciano was more than enough to wake him up, thus reminding him of his aching body. Groaning in pain, Arthur looked up and blinked at the sight of Italy yelling incomprehensible babbles all the while leaning dangerously over a bridge. Arthur's eyes widen in dread as he got to his feet and shouted.

"Feliciano! Watch out! Don't lean over the bridge, you'll …"

Horror painted itself on Arthur's and the other three nations still standing on the bridge as they watched Feliciano's lose its balance and flip over board.

"… fall." Muttered the blond, still registering the fact that Feliciano had fallen. He saw the Italian struggle in the water before he got drowned in the flowing canal. Ok. So the lad can't swim. Perfect.

Arthur ignored temporarily the pain coursing through his body as he threw away his jacket and shoes, and he dove in the cold waters of Venice. His pirate instinct kicked in and Arthur found the excitement and adrenaline when faced with dangerous tingle delightfully through his being. He swam along with the current, searching for the unconscious body of the brunet. It didn't take him long to find him and he swiftly grab the younger nation under his arms and heaved him up to the surface. The current was a little hindering but nothing like the raging seas Arthur used to face in the past. He succeeded in heaving Feliciano up on the side walk. It was harder for him to haul up his own exhausted body and Arthur dropped next to the other nation, heavy breathing and suddenly reminded of his condition. Why the fuck did he have to be a hero? That's America's thing! Arthur hates heroes. In fact, he's very realistic and rational, and knows that heroes don't exist.

"… G-grazie …" the shy coughing voice next to him, made Arthur's eyes flutter open. Turning his head, he saw Feliciano's face inches away from him and staring with a guilty expression. Arthur looked away, shutting his eyes and trying to contain the hiss of pain when his lungs burnt in every breath. He sighed loudly, causing Feliciano to shy away in worry.

"Don't lean over bridges. You'll fall." The Briton mumbled with a grimace of pain. His voice sounded croaked and strained and he couldn't even hide it anymore. He knew that in his condition he should have headed straight back home and avoided all stress. Jumping in a Venetian canal in a rescue mission was _not_ the best way to avoid stress! The strained coughs that shook his body only confirmed this.

"Scusa …" Feliciano mumbled guiltily. Arthur let out a soft chuckle that made Feliciano frown in confusion.

"You always rush head first in things without thinking. That's why you always get into trouble."

"Ve! I'm sor …"

"I'm not scolding you, lad." Arthur settled a indulgent gaze on the younger one. Somehow the situation reminded him of that time …

"Just make sure someone's around to save you again next time."

Arthur's laugh rapidly turned to unstoppable coughing. Feliciano started to panic as he watched the blonde's body curl and twist itself in pain while England's breathing grew heavy and uneven. Hissing and moaning in pain, Arthur felt his head being split in two and his whole body breaking down to the bones. His vision got covered with increasing white spots and he was on the verge of consciousness.

"England! What is it? Are you sick? Is it like this morning? Ve! Don't die! I'll call an ambulance! No, I'll call Germany! Ah no, maybe I should call France or America? Or the ambulance? Ve! I'll call Germany to ask him if I should call the ambulance before America? England? What should I do? Ve? Arthur? Arturo! Don't die! Arturo!"

Arthur slowly felt his mind drift into darkness, he couldn't even make sense of what Feliciano was saying. Using the last bit of strength he whispered in a breath:

"Call … Al …"


	3. Masked Cinderella in Venezia

**Chapter 2: Masked Cinderella in Venizia**

Feliciano watched with frightful eyes at the suffering blond in his hospital bed. Arthur was now resting peaceful, only occasionally shook by a shiver or an incomprehensible mumble. Feliciano kept watch over the unconscious man. He felt responsible for England's current state. If England hadn't risked his life to save him … plus Feliciano remembered that England wasn't feeling well today … it's his fault. Outside, Spain and Prussia were probably waiting to visit since the doctor only allowed two people at a time to visit. The Italian could here his brother and France discuss England's condition with the doctor. Despite being nations, they all have a human body and so it's not really an issue if they seek human medical help. Although, they have to make sure they are not suffering from war or an economic illness. France had already made sure of that.

* * *

As soon as Arthur had started to cry out in unbearable pain and Feliciano panicked, France and the other three had rushed over. The Frenchman is one of the best when it comes to medical care and he immediately ordered everyone around, calling Germany to inform him of the situation, getting an ambulance ASAP, and he even started to diagnosed Arthur's condition to make sure that he wasn't suffering from any 'nation' illness.

"Francisco, the ambulance will be there in 15 minutes. How's Arturo?" Spain's stern and worried expression was growing ever darker the more he looked at Arthur. France shook a dismissive hand at him, too engrossed in his diagnosis.

"He's not suffering from anything nation-related … He shouldn't be in such pain … I can't even find a human cause for this either …" At France's cold analysis, Spain's temper took over.

"There has to be something wrong! Arturo! He can't … Why is he like that, Francia?"

"I-DON'T-KNOW." France growled darkly. Even if he didn't show it, France was just as worried as the Spaniard but he had to remain professional if he wanted to find what the fuck was wrong with his young master. Prussia was calling Ludwig to let him know what was happening while Romano was keeping his brother out of any more trouble.

"Al … Al …" Arthur kept hissing in his pained breath and the nations all thought he was referring to America. Spain's expression darkened significantly and he refused to let America know about this. Prussia didn't care and thought America would only get in the way. Romano had an unusual frown on his face, one that Veneziano couldn't exactly pinpoint. Feliciano himself felt a sudden surge of unhappiness and anger at the desperation he heard in Arthur's voice. But why … France, overall, had doubts that Arthur was calling America. In fact he had a nagging feeling telling him that if Arthur was calling _this person_ then something was definitely wrong.

Arthur stirred in the hospital bed. Feliciano immediately jumped to his side, worried hazelnut watching the blond. From up close, Feliciano was surprised at how defenceless Arthur seemed. He had always thought of the blond as strong and intimidating, but laying there, so weak and defenceless … Feliciano could hardly recognized the nation he was so afraid of. Why was he afraid anyway? Arthur didn't look scary. In fact, you could say he looked very attractive with his golden mane, his pearly white skin, his delicate facial features … without his glaring and frowning, Arthur looked so beautiful. If he smiled more … like in the mask shop …

Feliciano blushed at the memory. He had never seen Arthur smile before. And such a soft smile, with those caring green eyes … it had caught the Northern Italian by surprise. His heart had jumped lightly and he had felt his face warm up unconsciously. Why …

* * *

_Flashback …_

_Feliciano grinned happily as he watched the other nations look around the shop in awe. Indeed, his masks were amazing! Personally, Feliciano didn't need one, he had so many already he didn't know what to do with them. But he always enjoys just admiring new art. It makes him smile. It makes everyone smile. Ah. No. Not everyone is smiling. Feliciano noticed the fazed out expression of England. It was odd to see him like this. Usually, Italy would not dare approach the northern nation but England's unusual behaviour today sparked his curiosity._

"_Inghilterra?"_

_Feliciano watched the blond snap back into reality. He shied away, expecting the Brit to snap in anger. He didn't. Arthur simply smiled at him, a warm and gentle smile, very unfitting of the scary and imposing England. Feliciano felt his heart jump and his pulse accelerate. Somehow … he felt like he had seen this smile before somewhere … And Dio, did Arturo look adorable when he wore that soft expression!_

_Feliciano frowned at the sudden warmth spreading through his body. He shouldn't be feeling all giddy just because of Arturo's smile. But he did have a nice smile! Pity he doesn't smile often. Maybe if Feliciano got to know him better …_

_Arthur's eyes settled on a particular mask. Feliciano smiled. This was quite a masterpiece. He could see why England would be drawn to it. Feliciano giggled inwardly as he pictured the blond wearing the mask. It would suit him. Although, the mask did have a more subtle, almost feminine elegance and grace, it didn't fit Arthur's strong aura and personality. But then again … Feliciano smiled at the thought of Arthur smiling gently. The mask would definitely suit this side of Arthur._

"_It's beautiful, isn't it?" Feliciano breathed out until he realised that he had spoken out loud … and he was not talking about the mask. Luckily, Arthur didn't look at him and only nodded in consent. The odd expression on Arthur's face made Feliciano's heart scream. He had never bothered looking at the blond Englishman before, and now that he did, he was amazed at how deep his true nature was. It felt like looking through a mirror, only seeing the reflection but never the true person. Feliciano's amber gaze lingered a bit more on Arthur then switched back to the mask. It definitely would suit the blond. And Feliciano really wanted to see the beauty of the result. That's an artist for you!_

"_It's expensive though …" Feliciano frowned in annoyance and sadness._

_Due to the economic crisis Europe was suffering, Italy struggled to tie loose ends. The pay of a country varies on the well-being of their economy. They are not richly paid unless the economy is booming. The state does pay for the UN meetings and such, but all personal expenses came out from Feliciano's pocket. This is the same for all countries. They are considered citizens and paid accordingly and the fact that they are immortal just means they can save up a lot. But Feliciano never was good at managing his money (which explains the state Italy is in right now) so he has little to no savings and his salary isn't all that much either. You'd be surprise but Feliciano currently doesn't earn more than an average worker in Italy. He couldn't afford fancy personal expenses, and Fratello would yell at him if he wasted even more money on a mask when he already has so many. He had really wanted to buy it for Arthur. He had really wanted to see Arthur wearing that mask …_

"_Do you want it?"_

"_Ve?" The Italian jumped at the sudden question. Arthur was still looking at the mask, as if afraid of scaring the brunet away if he turned around._

"_I'll buy it for you. If you want it."_

_Feliciano stared at the blond, shock painted on his face. Why? Why would Arthur want to buy it for him? Feliciano knew why he wanted to buy the mask for the blond. He wanted to see the beautiful art he imagined. But what reason had Arthur to want to buy him something?_

"_Why? You should buy it for yourself … and I don't have the money to …"_

"_I didn't ask for repayment. I don't mind buying it for you. I know your economy is a bit …"_

_Feliciano didn't answer immediately, causing an awkward silence to stretch. Yes, he couldn't afford gifts to others but … he didn't want to mask for himself! England misunderstood! In fact, he wanted to buy it for him! He had to explain himself out before Arturo really does buy him the mask …_

"_Grazie but …"_

* * *

_Running like a madman, Feliciano stumbled against passer-byes. He didn't stop, only shouted rushed apologies. He had to find Arturo!_

_Why?_

_Why did he have to find Arturo? England is a responsible country, more responsible than himself and if anything, Feliciano is more likely to accidentally drown in his own Venetian canals than Arthur would, or get lost, or chased by a dog, or stuck up a tree … He really didn't need to worry. England was probably just taking a walk around, admiring the architectural wonders of Venice._

_But he worried. And he didn't know why._

_Feliciano couldn't explain it but he had felt a sudden emptiness in his whole being, as if he was about to lose something. Something he desperately didn't want to lose. Something he had already lost and was just beginning to find once again. Why? Why would he be so desperate? He didn't know but it had something to do with Arturo. Maybe he should ask the blond when he finds him. Assuming he ever does find him._

"_Scusa!" Feliciano shouted once again as he bumped into yet another person. But unlike the other strangers, this one grabbed his shoulders and stopped him in his frantic track._

"_Feli? Che passa?" Purring Spanish asked and Feliciano recognised his fellow nations. Romano had been taking the Bad Touch Trio on a separate tour of Venice and they had just bumped into the panicked North Italy. Romano unceremoniously pushed his Spanish friend aside and checked out the hysterical state of his brother. Never before in a very, very long time had he seen his northern half so distressed, not since Nonno Roma's death. What happened?_

"_Oi! Stupido! Feliciano! What happened?" The other three watched in slight concern and curiosity. Feliciano started to sob in his brother's arms, babbling incomprehensibly but Romano seemed to understand every word._

"_The tea bastard?"_

_Romano's voice shook unusually but Feliciano paid no heed to it. He was simply glad that Lovino was now snapping orders to the other three to look for England. The urgency in Lovino's voice surprised them all but they assumed he was simply concerned about his brother. France was more than happy to help since had wondered about his young master's condition ever since his passing out in the meeting. Spain was growing very anxious, searching around like a desperate lost puppy although he would never admit that he still held feelings for his past pirate love. Prussia was concerned but more so because he didn't understand what was going on. Luckily, he seemed to be the only one who kept his cool and his head clear of pointless emotions, red eyes scanning around for any clue on England's whereabouts. His calm and analytic (military almost) behaviour allowed him to quickly spot his unconscious English friend. Something was definitely wrong if England had passed out on the pavement._

"_Hey! Isn't it him, over there?"_

* * *

Feliciano looked up when the door opened to reveal his distressed brother and a concerned France. They both looked grim and worried, their eyes settling briefly on the sleeping blond before shifting to the awaiting brunet.

"They don't know what's wrong with him yet. Apparently, his body is suffering huge stress but they wouldn't tell us more." France hissed, clearly annoyed. Had they been in his country, he was sure he could have helped England more or at least he would have been informed of his illness.

France glanced at his young master. Never before had he seen England in such a state. Not during wars or invasions, not during the worst of depressions or inflations, not during famine or social revolts, not even after natural catastrophes that could occasionally strike nations. Never. Not once had he seen him in such a bad state.

"We should leave. Antonio and Gilbert want to see him too." France was mindful to use only their human names while in presence of other humans.

Romano nodded, his face blank and in shock, he looked like a puppet following orders, denied of any will of his own. He diligently followed France, not complaining once. Feliciano, on the other hand, shook his head, not moving an inch away from Arthur's side. France sighed but allowed the younger nation to stay. He couldn't really tell Feliciano that it wasn't his fault … that might be a lie. And France never lied when a life was at sake, especially the life of his young master.

Motioning to Spain, he allowed only the Spaniard to walk in, since the doctors had been strict on only two people visiting at once. Prussia nodded, understanding, he was texting to Germany on his phone, keeping the others informed of any news until they arrived. Spain walked in the room with the face of widowed husband, clenching his fist as he tried to contain all of his temperamental anger and despair. He wasn't really good at managing his emotions … unlike England. Damn it! Spain fell to his knees in next to the sleeping England. Here he was, thinking that after all those years he had finally gotten over his small crush on the island nation. How wrong he was. You never realise what you do have, until you suddenly lose it. And then, only regret is left.

Feliciano watched the Spaniard tear up as he held and kissed Arthur's hand. He should be feeling compassionate of his Iberian friend. After all, Feliciano was well aware of Spain's feelings. Romano always talked about it and complained. Thinking back, Romano more often complained about Spain's crush on England than anything else related to the Spaniard. Feliciano knew that Spain and England had been lovers. They even have a daughter, although how she came to being is still a mystery since the two nations are male. The Italian should feel supportive of his friend … well, of his brother's friend. And yet … he wasn't. All Feliciano could feel was emptiness and maybe even annoyance at how Antonio held Arthur's hand. A possessive feeling was slowly growing in the depth of his heart. There was something … something about Arturo that made Feliciano wonder. Something he had lost and wanted to claim back. But what?

"_Are you an idiot?! You could have died! I can't believe you would just rush head first without thinking!"_

"_V-ve … scusa …"_

"_I'm not angry! Gosh, why are you so wimpy? Are you really Rome's heir?"_

_Feliciano lowered his head in shame. His body shivering and dripping of ice cold water. He had nearly drown had someone not been around to save him … again. A soft hand patted his head and he soon felt a body embrace him. They were both soaked wet but somehow, Feliciano felt himself warm up at the other's touch. A gentle chuckle reached his ears._

"_Just make sure someone's around to save you again next time."_

Feliciano snapped his eyes open. He realised he was alone in the room, outside shouts could be heard along with arguing nations. America was yelling angrily and Romano was snapping back just as angrily. Sicily and Sardegna were defending their brother, China was going hysterical and Russia was trying to calm him down. Spain was yelling at France who seemed to be grow anxious as Arthur's condition was getting worse, Germany and Prussia trying to appease the two Latins and overall, Feliciano was surprised he had managed to fall asleep despite the angry shouts outside. The doctors had given up on expelling the nations since Romano quickly made them know just _who_ he was (not the nation but he probably said that he was a representative of Italy).

Stirring from the bed drew Feliciano's attention and leaning forward, he saw Arthur's emerald eyes flutter open. They both blinked at one another until Arthur yelped in surprise. Feliciano didn't hesitate to hug the blond nation, not realising that he was hurting Arthur in the process.

"Arturo! You're awake! I'm so glad and so sorry! I didn't mean to fall and make you save me! I'm sorry! It's my fault you got sick! Scusa! Arturo! I'm so happy you're alive!"

"F-Feli-ciano … can't … breathe …" Arthur hissed in pain and was immediately released.

"Si! Scusa! Are you hurt?"  
Arthur tuned out from Feliciano's endless series of questions, his dazed emeralds scanning his surroundings. Looks like a hospital room … please tell me it's not a fucking hospital room …

"Where …?" Arthur let out in his struggle for breath. Feliciano's sharp reply came instantly.

"Hospital!"

"Can't … Need to … leave …"

"Ve? Leave? But you can't leave! You're sick!"

"Need … Al …"

Again, Feliciano felt it. This sharp pain crushing his heart as he heard Arthur call America. He didn't know why but he didn't like to hear Arthur ask for someone else when he was here.

"If you need anything, I can help! I'm here!" Feliciano smiled is broadest smile but Arthur barely took notice, too busy searching for something.

"Time …"

"The time? It's quarter to ten, Arturo! Ah, the ball will be starting soon …" Feliciano shook his head. How could he be thinking about the festival when Arthur was in critical condition. Luckily, England didn't seem to mind the distraction. He stayed pensive for a minute before gathering enough strength to form a full sentence.

"Sorry … I can't stay for the festival … I … need to leave …"

"Ve? B-But your condition …"

"Do you … still want it?"

Feliciano blinked in confusion. Arthur forced a smile on his face, like he was worried he might scare the younger one. Oh, Feliciano was scared. Terrified. But not of Arthur. He was scared for Arthur's sake.

"The mask …?" Arthur explained. Feliciano blushed. How could the blond still think about that when he's laying in a hospital bed?

"Ve! No! I … I actually wanted to buy it for you because you seemed to like it and it would suit you but I didn't have the money and … Arturo?" Feliciano stared with shocked eyes as the blond suddenly shook of small punctuated chuckles.

"You're still the same air-head …" The chuckles turned into coughs. Feliciano tried to help but the door of the room suddenly slammed open and America appeared in the doorway, red-faced and distressed.

"ARTHUR! I'M HERE! ARTHUR! WHAT HAPPENED? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

Arthur cringed at the sudden loud shouts. America was bad enough but soon, all the other nations followed suit, all talking or yelling at the same time. And damn did his head hurt! Arthur was barely conscious and those wankers were already getting on his nerves! The doctors didn't risk themselves in trying to stop the commotion of nations around the blond.

"ARTHUR! I'M SO SORRY! I SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE TO HELP YOU! PLEASE DON'T DIE!"

"Alfred! Yelling is not going to help the young master! So just shut up! Arthur, mon lapin, ça va? How are you feeling?"

"Arturooooooo! Lo siento! I didn't know you were unwell!"

"Right, Because you didn't see him pass out in the conference earlier, bastard?"

"But I didn't think he was that sick …" Spain sheepishly answered to a raging Romano. France tried to contain America with the help of Canada.

"Arthur looks really pale, da?"  
"YOU GODDAMN COMMIE, STAY AWAY FROM MY ARTHUR!"

"Excuse me? _Your_ Arthur, aru? Since when was he ever yours, Hamburger face?" China growled as he tried to keep his calm like the old nation he was … which was really difficult since all he wants right now is to punch America.

"Yao-san, Alfred-san, I don't think Asa-san needs fighting right now." Arthur recognised his Japanese name, the one Kiku uses only when he's seriously emotional.

"Kiku's right! All of you are just being careless and irresponsible! Lovino, stop strangling Antonio! Antonio put your axe away! Bruder go and help Frank contain Alfred!"

"Oi West, I think Arthur wants to speak to Alfred, doesn't he?"

"YEAH!"

"NO!" Many nations shouted back at the loud American.

"WHY NOT?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE TOO DAMN NOISY HAMBURGER BASTARD!" Romano yelled and it all went beyond England's comprehension after that.

"WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP! ARTHUR NEEDS REST AND YOU ARE ALL HINDERING IT!" France yelled.

"Frank don't yell, you're making things worse!" Prussia pointed out.

"Hum … Maybe Arthur is hungry? My sister can cook really good food." Russia suggested.

"I don't think Asa-san would suffer like that from just hunger!"

"He would if he were starving. My people and I suffer like that every winter …"

"IT'S THE COMMIE'S FAULT!"

"Aiya! I know! What Arthur needs is my great Chinese medicine!"

"If we're talking about medical care, my young master would be better taken care off at my place!"

"I don't think Arthur should be moved around yet, Frank …"

"Don't bother Luddy, he's gone into doctor mode."

"Ve? Arturo?"

Arthur took a deep breath as he tried to clear the fogginess in his mind and gathered enough strength to actually speak louder than a simple whisper.

"Arthur needs all you fucking tossers to go wanking off fuck knows where and bloody leave me be in fucking peace and quiet!"

They all silenced at the cracking voice of the Englishman. Arthur let out a few coughs before looking around for his phone.

"Phone …"

"What phone, mon lapin."

Ah good, the damn frog is here. He has Al's number.

"Phone … Al …"

"I'M HERE ENGLAND!" America rushed to Arthur's side, only to be pushed away by the sick man. "A-Arthur? Dude?"

"Not you, wanker … Frog … Call … Al … Al-stor …"

"… Who the fuck is Alstor?" Alfred frowned, sudden anger rising in him. How could Arthur call anybody else _Al_ but him?! But France understood perfectly and hurriedly started to dial on his mobile. He never got a chance to phone than the said _Al_ was charging his way through the hospital halls, pulling with him a shocked and outraged Vatican.

The door slammed open and an imposing man with broad shoulders, pearly white skin, intense crimson hair and sharp emerald eyes appeared in the doorway. He held poor Vatican by the hair in a firm grip. It was easy to recognised the religious nation. The priest outfit kind of gave it away, and his hair curl seemed to curve around his head like an aureole. He kept cursing almost as colourfully as Romano which was surprising coming from Vatican, his golden eyes glaring at the red hair who had abducted him. Frankly, Scotland had simply needed someone to guide him through Venice to find his brother, even if it turns out to be a religious wanker.

"WHERE THE FUCKING BLOODY HELL IS ME BROTHER?!" The Scotsman growled darkly, causing every nation to jump a few feet back. His emerald eyes settled on the sick blond and a sparkle of relief shone in the green eyes. He unceremoniously dropped Vatican and rushed to his brother's side.

"Al …?" Arthur asked tentatively, his vision was now back to being an absolute blur and he couldn't see anything.

"Aye, s'me lady. You're going to be fine! Let's go home, aye?"

"Aye … sorry … for the trouble …"

"No trouble at all. No trouble. At. All. Just relax, alright?"

The older Briton gently picked up the now unconscious body of his brother and walked out of the room, ignoring the other nations and the doctors who tried to stop him. One acid green glare was enough to silence every doctor around.

Feliciano and the other nations blinked slowly, as if awaking from a dream. Then the realisation that Arthur had just been kidnapped (well, sort of) downed on them. America was first to rush out of the room, followed closely by Romano, Spain and China. France frowned but didn't bother running after the two British siblings. As soon as America looked around the corner, expecting to see the red hair carrying away his Arthur, he was met with an empty corridor.

"He just … vanished." The confused American muttered, hoping someone could explain to him what on bloody earth (as Arthur would say) happened.

* * *

Feliciano sighed again. He had probably been sighing more than breathing ever since the beginning of the ball. Wearing his dark blue tuxedo with an elegant white mask covering the upper half of his face and in the shape of the classical Harlequin mask although with added artistic modifications. He was leaning against a corner of the ballroom. All he could hear from the buzzing around was the event at the hospital. Humans talked about the strange sick man and that crazy people that had threatened the doctors (that would be them) followed by the mysterious disappearance of the sick blond. Nations, although Feliciano couldn't tell which were nations and which were humans due to their masks, mostly talked about Arthur's strange sickness and wondered about the identity of the red haired man. Of course, not many nations knew about Arthur's siblings. Feliciano himself had had to ask France about the strange man. His only answer was:

"Scotland. His human name is Alistair. And trust me, Feli, you should not try to get in his way. Arthur will be fine with him so don't worry."

But Feliciano worried. He didn't know why but he worried.

He felt powerless and again like he had lost something. Something dear and precious. Something he had long forgotten.

From the corner of his eye Feliciano saw his brother Vatican walk up to him. Romano was brooding darkly in a corner too, Sicily and Sardinia by his side and trying to cheer him up. Feliciano vaguely wondered why Lovino would be concerned about Arthur. Then again, looking around, he noticed everyone was concerned.

"Stop thinking about him."

The Northern Italian shifted his attention back to his eldest brother. Vatican, or more commonly Pietro, was still dressed in his religious attire, with rich golden linings, and wearing a golden mask that fully covered his face with only two slits for his eyes.

"Pietro …" Feliciano never called Vatican 'Fratello'. That title was reserved to Romano. The one who actually did act more like a brother to him. Vatican had always considered himself separate from Italy … and he technically still is and independent state.

"Why do you care anyway?" The priest challenged, his cold expression probably as cold as the mask he wore.

"I don't know. I feel … I've lost something. And it's my fault that he … Arturo tried to save me and he …"

"He was already sick. If anything, it as foolish of him."

Feliciano glared at his brother. You rarely get to see Feliciano glare but when he does, he reminds people of Rome, the great conqueror.

"He helped me."

"And you helped him to a hospital. You have no more obligation."

"He … I don't but I want to!"

"Why?"

"… I don't know yet."

"Feliciano, the world you live in isn't free. Whatever you may think you owe this man, be careful to trade carefully. Life is a game. Only the winner walks free." Pietro whispered those last words with hope that they might have some effect on his carefree brother. The same words Rome had spoke to him.

_Life is a game. Only the winner walks free._

Feliciano ignored his older brother and walked away to mingle in the crowd. He soon got swallowed up and felt strangely uneasy. He doesn't usually feel this uncomfortable around people but this time, for some reason, he just wanted to be left alone. That might have been too much to ask, as he was soon drawn out from the peace of his mind and faced with reality by the loud and excited whispers of people around him. Looking up, his natural curiosity sparked as he listened to the ushered conversation. A newcomer to the ball? At this late hour? Feliciano glanced at his watch. 12: 46. The firework was at 01:00 and the ball had already been undergoing for almost 3 hours now. Who could be arriving this late …

Feliciano's mouth dropped and his eyes widened at the sight. He felt his heart rush and his whole body go numb. Everything else vanished around him and the only thing left in his world was the approaching figure of the woman in her blue dress.

Her beautiful feline figure, although small was nevertheless gracious and elegant as she gilded on the floor like a princess. Her short blond hair would look even better if they were a bit longer. Her soft milky skin and ruby red lips, Feliciano felt an urge to kiss them. And her feral grace, her natural charisma seemed to draw the attention by her sheer presence.

Nation or human? None could tell. Her face unknown, hidden behind a familiar black mask.

* * *

Everyone requested the stranger's hand to dance. So much that Feliciano never got a chance to approach her until she suddenly left. Feliciano followed the woman as she exited the ballroom. The firework would be starting anytime soon. He stopped her, called her, tried to understand her. She turned back to face him, a smirk on her lips. The Italian could have sworn he had seen her before …

"Prego … May I have your name, my lady?" He asked with his best seductive purr. The one that can make any lady fall to his feet. He spoke English, hoping she would understand since she didn't look Italian.

But she only laughed. Placing her slender finger against the Italian's lips she whispered with a smirk that could make the devil flee but completely subjugated the Italian.

"I'm no lady."


	4. It's all a game

**Chapter 3: It's all a game**

The man in white glided elegantly down one of the many halls of the castle. And indeed what a castle, he thought to himself. Thought that would soon be interrupted by the expected doorbell. The man smiled in delight. The house lightened up instantly and excited whispers arose in every room and corridor.

She was back.

The butler snapped his gloved white fingers and the usual mess of the castle suddenly decided that _messy_ was out of the question when the Lady returned. He walked past one of the kitchen, duck as he heard a loud explosion, thus avoiding … something green and that looked like a rock tart, though he wouldn't risk his teeth on it. He drew out his pocket watch and hurried to the door. He wouldn't want to make his mistress wait, would he?

He wasn't late.

As the sound of the bell ended, the butler had already arrived in front of the elephant large doors, dusting off what invisible speck of dust his jacket might have and straightening himself. He snapped his fingers and the castle froze, prepared and ready as always to welcome their host.

The doors opened.

"Welcome home, My Lady."

* * *

The woman in blue giggled in delight at the black wing-shaped mask now hanging on her dresser. Tonight had been a great night! She got a chance to get out and enjoy herself without any concerns for security or discretion! It felt like a story out of a fairy tale, and believe me she long gave up on believing in fairy tales. So many men asked her out to dance! Don't get mistaken, she had been to balls before. Many. Countless. That wasn't new. But never had people been so eager to dance with her! It made her feel … like a princess. But like all fairy tales, there always comes an end to the enchantment and the magic fades away. Like melting snow on a spring's morning.

"Was it worth it?" a hallow female voice arose from behind her.

Shifting her body and rolling over on her bed, her blue dress falling on her like a waterfall, the woman smiled lazily at the ghostly figure floating behind her.

"I don't know. I can't tell yet until I see what after-effects my little outing caused."

"I'll tell you one of the effects. If Scotland ever gets to ear of this, he'll …"

"Of course. But what Alistair doesn't know, can't hurt little me!" The girl let out a laugh, wicked smile playing her lips. The ghost shook its head, disagreement sounding harsh in her voice.

"Why did you do this? You know the risk better than anyone …"

Suddenly the woman silenced, dusting off her blue dress, all traces of her previous laughter gone. She settled an angry green gaze on the silver figure.

"I was wearing a mask. At a ball with both nations and humans. In bloody Italy! I didn't even speak a word to anyone! In a few decades, nobody will ever remember me, not even other nations! I'll be long gone and forgotten! The memory of a memory! They don't even know my name so tell me, your Highness, how the fuck did I compromise my secret?!"

A challenging silence stretched in the room until the ghost sighed, obviously giving up.

"There, there, do not fight, dears. There is no need to get so worked up. They have no lead on our whereabouts or even the slightest clue about the Miss' condition." Another, higher pitched but still hallow voice interrupted the two. Their eyes shifted towards the floating appearing ghost not far from the door. The woman in her blue dress rolled her eyes before getting up and heading for the window. She didn't listen to the rising argument between the two dead females. They always seemed to end up in an argument no matter the topic.

It's raining. Oh, what a surprise.

The woman chuckled, shaking away a few strands of golden hair from her face. It's getting long already. Someone's been messing with her hair again. Every damn time … She sighed and opened the window, not caring about the sudden howl of violent winds rushing inside her room. Glancing back, she noticed her two dead friends were still arguing, oblivious to whatever the young girl in blue was doing. Grinning devilishly, the girl jumped out the window. She had no balcony or anything. It really was just a window, with the promise of a 20 feet fall and a painful trip to hospital.

But she didn't fall.

He bare feet landed safely, standing perfectly still in emptiness, 20 feet above ground, her whole body being showered by the rain. She ha no fear of heights. Nor did she fear falling. She wouldn't fall. Not unless she wanted to. That's how things work around here. If you think you'll fall, then you will. If you think it's perfectly normal to be standing outside your window, in mid-air, 20 feet above ground and soaking wet under the pouring rain … then that's fine too.

She lifted her head up, allowing her face to be washed off by the cold drops. She loved the rain. You wouldn't expect her to, especially after all those decades of living in this land of constant rain. But she loved. She never got sick of it, or bored. In fact, she never got sick at all. I guess your body would adapt and get used to such stormy weathers to the point were you wouldn't catch colds anymore. Thank god for that! Colds look like a fucking pain in the arse to get rid of! Good thing she never got sick.

Although … that's not entirely true. She could get sick. And has been before. Strange and foreign disease and such, but never a cold. No matter how many hours she spends outside in the pouring rain and freezing winds. But that's good, since she liked the rain. She loved it. Why? Because the sky did the one thing she never could and never would.

It cried.

* * *

Alistair cursed as he felt rain drops on his face. Oh bloody great! Exactly what he needed! The red haired man started to run towards his destination, hoping to get there before the small drops turned to full blown shower. He walked through a large oak tree, not slowing down as he went straight into the trunk and through the magical portal it held. Shaking off his wet hair like a dog, messing it up even more than it already was, Alistair looked at his surroundings. The inside of the trunk looked nothing like a tree. It felt more like an infinite empty space. The man felt like floating in a blood red sky. Red, uh? Someone must be fucking pissed if that's how _they_ decided to colour their sky. Alistair chuckled to himself as he imagined various scenarios that would explain the redness of this space. Glittering golden powders floating around him like dust, sometimes resembling stars. The nation didn't have to wait long until a small light appeared before him. The winged lady bowed her head in greeting and Alistair greeted her back the same.

"How may I help you, Sir?" She asked with a business tone of voice, sharpish and to the ready, watching him behind tilted glasses and holding out a notepad. She did have a look of secretary, didn't she?

"Find William Kirkland and let him know that he needs to head for Venice as soon as possible and attend the UN conference in the place of Arthur Kirkland as the UK representative."

"Very well. Anything else?"

"Yes. Erase all data on Arthur Kirkland in the Venetian hospital's records, wipe out clean all of the doctor's memories concerning Arthur Kirkland's condition, and anything related to this matter. Leave no trace that could lead anybody to Arthur Kirkland."

"Understood. I will pass it on … Excuse me." She spoke expressively before her expression blanked out. Alistair knew she was probably communicating with her fellow fairies through telepathy. It's kind of like mobile phones.

The fairy smirked darkly and her soft giggle caused Alistair to frown in confusion. Blinking herself out of the telepathic network, she grinned like a child pretending innocence.

"What?" The man growled suspiciously. But the winged creature only smiled more, tilting her head maliciously.

"Nothing Sir. It will be done as you requested."

And she vanished, leaving a confused Scotland to blink at the hard trunk of the oak tree, slowly getting drenched from the rain.

"Damn pixies …" The man muttered darkly. He knew something was wrong the minute that fairy had smirked. And trust me there is nothing but a thin line of difference between a fairy and a pixie.

The man shook his wet head. So much for avoiding the rain. He slowly walked back towards the castle where his care was waiting for him. How long had he spent in the magical realm? Difficult to say since time doesn't work at all the same way back there. He could have been there minutes or maybe days. Hopefully not days. Maybe he had come out before even entering the realm? Yes, time reverse is actually quite frequent.

"I need a cup of tea …" The Scot sighed, only wishing to get back under the warm roof o his castle. Although, he knew one person who would be glad about the awful weather tonight.

* * *

_Fire._

_Feliciano blinked his eyes open … and wished he hadn't._

_Fire._

_All he could see by a mile, were the endless flames, devouring everything in sight. Nothing escaped the raging flames. Nothing. It all burned down until ashes remain._

_Fire._

_Feliciano cried. He was alone. Alone in this too big world. Way too big for little him. A country yet to be. Not fully one but there none the less. How can such a weak half of a nation fend for himself in this big and scary world._

_Fire._

"_Just make sure that someone's there to save you next time."_

_Feliciano blinked his tears away. He had heard a voice. And now a laugh. A beautiful laugh. Resonating like crystal, rolling like waves and chiming like a bell. Who?_

"_What's wrong love? Did you fall off a tree again? Come, I'll take care of your wound."_

_Feliciano started to run. He felt heat and a soft light ahead. He ran faster._

"_Don't cry, Veneziano. Other nations will pick on you if they think you're weak. So don't cry, alright? Be strong and be kind."_

_Tears fell down his cheeks. Why was he crying? Why? What was he looking for? What is he trying to reach out for?_

"_One day, I'll be gone. You and I will be enemies."_

"_Ve? But why?"_

_Feliciano frowned as he heard his own voice. A confused and girly voice. But the voice that answered was strong and kind._

"_Because this world … is one big game board. And we are its players. To survive, we need to win. And I will not lose … ever again."_

_Feliciano blinked as he approached closer to that spot of light. It wasn't warm anymore. It was burning, infernal, he felt his throat dry out._

"_And so, if we ever played, Feli … you would lose."_

_Fire._

_Fire.  
Fire._

_Feliciano felt his body burn, suddenly the flames rose higher and the suffocation prevented him even from screaming. Yet that voice still sounded loud and clear in his head._

"_Feliciano …"_

"_W-Why? Why did you …?"_

_Anger. Hate. Reproach. Murder. He could hear them all in his childish past self and the intensity of those dark emotions caused Feliciano to shiver despite the flames eating up his body. Had he ever been this angry? But against who? And why?_

"_WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?!"_

"_Because he lost the game." The calm voice answered._

"_G-game? Life is not a game!"_

_Tears. Sobs. Sadness. Despair._

"… _I'm sorry Italia del Nord, but from today on, a new game starts. Our game. In our world. Try not to die." The voice faded away._

_Fire._

_Feliciano blinked. Through the intense flames, he spotted a figure. Narrowing his gaze he recognised the sobbing figure of his past self, dressed in a roman toga, soaked in blood and crying his soul out. But why was he crying?_

_A body lay dead in front of the small desperate boy. An arrow stood still in the dead's chest but Feliciano couldn't see the person's face._

"_Life is a game. And only the winner walks free." Vatican's words rang threateningly in Feliciano's head._

_Fire._

_Fire._

_Fire._

_And then … nothing is left but cold ashes and empty hearts._

_..._

"_This is a big world, Feli, so don't let go of my hand otherwise you'll get lost!"_

* * *

Feliciano screamed.

That was the one thing Romano thought as he woke up in a panic and rushed to his brother's room. Their sisters had headed back to their own homes and Vatican was sulking in St Pietro for having been molested by Scotland. Or maybe he was cursing the bastard? Wouldn't surprise Romano if Vatican had switched his priest white robe to a dark cloak and invoked a demon to chase Scotland. Although, he doubted Pietro actually knew anything about dark magic. That's more Arthur's thing, isn't it? Whatever!

"Stupido! What's wrong?"

Romano froze at the sight of his trembling brother. The younger nation was shaking like a leaf, cold swear running down his freakishly pale skin and his horrified expression looked like he had seen his own death. Feliciano kept muttering "Fire. Fire. Fire" like some creepy mantra, his eyes wide and blank, like he was in another state of mind.

"F-Feli?" Romano slowly approached his brother and tried to embrace him comfortably.

Usually, after a bad dream, Feliciano would cling to him like a desperate puppy. But here, the younger brother fell lump in his arms, like an empty doll. That seriously crept out Lovino who checked his brother's temperature for a fever … or _something_ that could explain his extreme reaction. Eventually, the Southerner gave up and resigned himself to stroking his brother's hair while holding him tightly. Whispering softly to appease his northern half, Lovino wondered what could have caused such a traumatic dream to his brother.

"… lost …" Feliciano muttered.

"Che? Feli?"

"… I … lost …"

Lovino frowned in confusion. What was his idiotic brother sleep-talking about now?

"What did you lose, bastardo?"

Feliciano stayed quiet, as if not wanting to answer. When he did, his voice sounded cold and empty.

"The game."

* * *

Alistair glared angrily at the blond girl seated in front of her. He moved his tower. She smiled, like she always does when she sees a flaw in his game. Her long slender fingers moved her knight and Alistair realised his mistake. Too late.

"Check." The girl spoke, lifting up teasing emerald eyes as she met the angry emeralds of the man.

"You thought I wouldn't find out?"

"I thought it was obvious too but the rules state that I should point out whenever I'm in check." The girl answered back with a cheek, lazy smile curling her lips.

"Don't play smart, lass!" The man growled as he moved his queen, thus protecting his king.

"Hum-um. Wise move."

"Wiser than yours."

"Why ever so?"

"Yesterday, Wales phoned me. I sent him to replace England at the conference."

"Yes, I would imagine so."

"Apparently, the hot topic on every nation's lips is about the mysterious girl in a blue dress wearing a black mask. A girl that appeared and disappeared in the blink of an eye. Never spoke a word but her beauty was unrivalled. A fairy some even said. I'll spare you all the other exaggerated gossips."

Alistair rolled his eyes as the girl fell into a fit of laughter. To be fully honest, even he found it ridiculous how all those nations who constantly mock Arthur and his magic, would now suddenly claim to have seen a fairy. The Scotsman couldn't help the corner of a smile as he listened to the beautiful laughter of the girl. He love to hear her laugh. If only he could make her even happier. But that can ever be a wish.

"Explain yourself." The man's expression hardened as he tried to put up his most imposing scold.

Humming lightly, the woman played her knight again and took out one of his pawn. She smirked, and Alistair knew she had already planned out his defeat, no matter what move he played. He moved his bishop only to see his tower getting taken. Relentless, with every move he made, she attacked him with her knight. And as predicted …

"Check."

"You needn't state the obvious."

"That's the rule, love."

Alistair smirked at her response and moved his king. She nodded, approving of his move. Her fingers reached out for her tower then she paused. Alistair looked up, curious as to why she would postpone her victory. A malicious smile stretched on her ruby lips and she moved back to her knight.

"I wanted to go just this once. It was the perfect opportunity, wouldn't you agree, darling?" her purr caused the man to smirk darkly.

"Don't push your luck too far, sweetie. You might run out."

"If I do then I lose. Luck is a key element in games. And in life."

"Like I said, don't push it."

"I'm not. My every move …" She place her knight forward. "Is precise and calculated."

Scotland frowned in confusion. Why would she not move her tower. She would have won already. Was she being merciful? No. She never is. Not in games or in life. Then did she want to humiliate him? No. She had honour. He had taught her to respect her opponents. Besides, she would never disrespect him. Then what?

"What are you planning?" He asked, expecting two answers. She smiled, lifting up one finger as she spoke.

"For real? Nothing. I wanted a night out and that ball sounded fun. Especially since I knew I would stay locked up here for another month."

She lifted her second finger.

"In our little game? I just want to win using my best ace."

"Your best ace?"

"He'll never abandon me. He'll betray me, hate me, threaten me, even might try to kill me but he would never let me go." She picked up her knight piece and kissed it tenderly.

The man blushed slightly and grumbled in his breath before knocking over his king deliberately. She stared at the fallen black king.

"You didn't have to." Her voice sounded annoyed. What little time she got to spend with Alistair, why did he have to ruin everything?

"Three more moves and your ace would have gotten me anyway, right?"

"You figured it out?"

"How many times have we played each other? I know your train of thoughts."

"Yet you still lose to me." She grinned teasingly and the man chuckled.

"Every time, love. Every time."

The white butler walked in, silver tray in hand with tea set on the ready.

"Today's tea is Earl Grey. Will that suit your taste, masters?"

"Perfect." The man smiled.

"Milk but no sugar for the young master, and two sugars but no milk for the young mistress. Will that be all?"

"That's fine bunny." The girl answered before sipping her tea.

"May I ask, Sir, when are you planning to leave?"

Alistair sighed, brushing off some of the chess pieces and putting them away.

"I need to get back to work. It's going to be hectic without England around. Twice more work …" The red haired grumbled. He hated paperwork.

The girl smiled sadly but said nothing. She drank her tea in a guilty silence. Alistair seemed to notice and he hurriedly tried to cheer her up.

"I'll be back soon! Don't worry! Just hang in there and I promise if not me, then I'll send that lazy Will over. Besides, you could call for the kids to visit, right?"

"Here? Come on, are you trying to traumatise them? No offense, bunny."

"None taken, my Lady."

"Aly … I'm sorry." Scotland whispered softly. He felt her slender hands lift his face up and her gaze met his.

"I know. And It's fine. I still have my ace, remember?"

She smiled. He smiled back. How much he wished she didn't have to go through this every year.

"Don't fuck up work!" She teased before kissing his forehead.


	5. Shared dreams and shared fears

**Chapter 4: Shared Dreams and Shared Fears**

It has already been a year and the story surrounding England's sudden illness and the apparition of a mystified lady (most of the stories around her were exaggerated and came from gossips anyways) had both died down. Now, nobody remembered the girl in a blue dress and her black wing-shaped mask. The same mask England had been admiring hours before in a Venetian shop before he passed out and was sent to hospital … and then got abducted by his own brother. But as said before, nobody cares to remember anymore. Well … almost nobody.

Feliciano gazed out the window of the meeting room. Germany was speaking about the economic crisis again. And he had eaten all of his pasta already. Romano was taking notes and everyone else was being quiet and obedient because Germany was speaking. And Veneziano was bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. So, like always when he gets bored, his mind wandered off. Oh! Pretty blue bird on the window side! Blue … Like her dress.

Feliciano frowned. He still wondered about that unusual day. First England gets weirdly sick. And Feliciano starts having weird memories and emotions that somehow get triggered by the Englishman, followed by Arturo in hospital and the panic that ensued from it. His brother took him away and later that night a strange blond girl with green eyes wearing Arturo's mask appeared. Well, not really Arturo's mask since he hadn't bought it but still! What a strange turn of event! And why was Feliciano the only one that seemed to care about this? Even his fratello had said:

"Forget it! It's over Stupido! Inghilterra is cured and that girl was probably just some random human."

Was she? Just a human. Feliciano couldn't help thinking that he knew that girl, that he had seen her somewhere before. And she made his heart race the same way as when he crosses eyes with Arturo. Just like now.

Feliciano felt his pulse accelerate as he inadvertently met the intense emeralds of Arthur from across the conference table. The blond blinked before smiling at him and shifting his attention back to the speaker. Feliciano hid the soft blush on his face by bending over his empty notes. Instead of notes, all his pages were covered in sketches of a mysterious girl with a mask and of Arthur. Something about that day made Feliciano wonder. Also, ever since, he has been having odd dreams and even nightmares. And in every single one of them, good dreams or bad dreams, he would hear that voice. Sometimes Feliciano's past self would talk back in a conversation from the past. But the Italian couldn't even remember his own words. It was so long ago … and it almost felt as if something was preventing him from remembering.

"Italy-kun! I think it's your turn to speak." Japan whispered, not without shooting a curious glance at Italy's sketches. But he only smiled indulgently … until he noticed a sketch of Arthur. His expression turned pensive yet he didn't speak a word.

"Ve? O-Oh! Scusa!"

"ITALY!" Germany shouted with a frown. Romano was rolling his eyes, already standing up and waiting for his stupid brother to start speaking.

"ROGER SIGNOR!" Feliciano stood up in military pose. Well, the best military stand up he could muster … which didn't mean much and almost looked comical.

A few nations laughed, some just rolled their eyes in exasperation, some didn't bother expressing an opinion (too used to this) and some held a compassionate expression, even pity. Feliciano expressively tried to read out the notes Germany had helped him prepare for his speech but the words he spoke rang empty in his ears. All he could hear was the sound of laughter. People laughing and mocking him. He knew this wasn't true. Most people in the room were actually listening to him. But the laughter remained, resonating in his mind like bells of shame. The sobs of his past self joined in and North Italy now knew that this was just another of his unknown memories. He didn't remember that but he felt it. Feliciano closed his eyes just for a minute, trying to chase away the uncomfortable feeling.

"_SHUT UP BASTARDS OR I'LL BREAK YOUR BONES AND FEED THEM TO THE CIRCUS' LIONS!"_

_Feliciano looked up. It's that voice again._

_A soft hand wiped off his tears. He could still hear shouting. Other people joined in but he only cared for the gentle caring voice that was comforting him._

"_Honestly Feli … What am I going to do with you? Don't cry … Sorry if I scared you. I was just trying to make them leave. Don't let people abuse you like that! Next time, come and tell me or the others! You're lucky Lovi came to find me. Oh look at what they did to you … they even bruised your cute face … Next time, I'll bloody murder them!"_

Feliciano felt tears roll down his cheeks. He blinked, looking around, and noticed that everyone was watching him with worried expressions. Romano was the most worried of them all. But all Feliciano saw was the anxious emeralds focused on him. Only on him. Was it wrong to feel this happy because Arthur was watching him like something precious? Something he cared for? There is no reason for Arthur to care for him. Arthur never raised him like he did for America. He didn't have a past history like with France. Or even a colonial link like India. He wasn't a past relationship like Spain or China. His brother Lovino on the other hand did have contacts with England, they allied in WW2 and Feliciano was glad that England was the one to prevent him from going insane. But essentially … Italy had little contact with England compared to other countries.

Then why did his heart skip a beat just now?

"Oi! Stupido? W-Why are you crying dammit? Is it about the pasta again?" Lovino shook his brother's shoulders.

Feliciano forced a smile on his face. He can do that. He can make people believe that he's happy when he isn't really. Why? He didn't remember. But as far as memory goes, he had always worked on keeping a smile on his face. Of course that meant being optimistic and joyous constantly. But Feliciano liked that. He liked seeing the bright side of things. He liked smiling. He just didn't know why he started to smile in the first place. He was known to be a wimpy child, always crying for nothing. At least, that's what Nonno Roma would say.

And now he only smiles.

But he doesn't know why.

"S-Scusa Fratello! I got all sad from some very old memory. Ve! Did you say pasta?"

* * *

**Three weeks later …**

Romano woke up in a panic, his body sweating and his pulse racing.

What the fuck …

It took him a few minutes to stop the shivers shaking his body. He got up and headed for the bathroom to rinse his face.

What the fuck.

He frowned at his reflection. Even after his wash, his face was still flushed, eyes red and slightly puffed, his chocolate hair messed up, and his olive skin turning pale. He walked back to his room and sat on his bed, thinking back on what he had just seen.

What the fuck!

His fist clenched angrily and he glared at the empty space in front of him. Next door, he could still hear Feliciano's soft moans …

WHAT. THE. FUCK?!

Lovino yelled into his pillow to cancel his scream. He felt angry, scared and betrayed. But he didn't know why. In fact, he didn't even know why he had had such a freaky dream. Next door, Feliciano started to sleep-talk again. But Romano didn't listen. If he did, he might go murderous.

"Stupido Fratellino …" The older one muttered. He couldn't get rid of the flashbacks of this dream. But he didn't want this dream. It wasn't even _his_ dream! Dammit!

Angry tears started to streak down his cheeks but no matter how many times Lovino wiped them off, more came flooding in. Next door, Feliciano's moans of pleasure turned to hysterical screams of fear … again.

This wasn't the first time. And Romano was sick of it. Why was _he_ getting dragged into Feliciano's messed up head?! And why did he have to watch those irritating visions! And why did it even bother him?! It shouldn't! He shouldn't care! But he still does. And that made him angrier.

"What the damn fuck, dammit?!" South Italy growled before walking into his brother's room to calm him down.

* * *

"_Feliciano …"_

_Italy stirred a bit, a smile stretching on his lips. He didn't quite recognised the other man's voice but it felt pleasant. And the way it purred his name … Feliciano leaned in the other's embrace. He felt soft moist lips connect to his own, defter hands caress his body soon followed by trails of kisses. Feliciano moaned. He didn't know if he was dreaming or not but if so, then he never wanted to wake up._

"_Feliciano …"_

_Again, the rolling deep sound of that voice. The Italian could swear he knew that voice really well but … never mind. Feliciano's hunger for the other made him forget everything. All he wanted was taste the man, hold him, kiss him, and never let him go … never let him … go._

_A tear. Feliciano didn't understand why he was crying again. Especially when he felt so much passion and lust. It didn't feel right. Something was amiss. A tongue licked away his tear and that voice spoke again._

"_What's wrong, love?"_

_Feliciano blinked. Love? Whose love? Who loved him? And who did he love? As far as Feliciano knew, he had only truly loved three people. Holy Roman Empire, but he died. Germany, because he reminded him of Holy Rome, however the German made it clear that he wasn't interested. And … and who? That's only two people. Who's the third?_

"_Feliciano?"_

_The voice was anxious and worried. Feliciano looked up and met intense emeralds so deep he could drown in them. Golden hair fell on the man's face, hiding it partially, but through the blond mane, Feliciano could clearly see the deep green eyes devouring him. He had never been looked at like that before. Holy Rome was never this passionate and his timidity sometimes had irritated Italy. But those eyes … why do they feel like burning him._

_Fire._

_Feliciano didn't understand but suddenly, the other's presence was gone. Chased away. He was alone again. Alone I complete darkness. Alone and cold._

"_Ve … W-wait … w-what happened … who are you …?"_

_Nobody answered back. Feliciano started to shake. He curled himself up in a ball and cried. He knew he had lost him again. Again? Had this happened before? When?_

_Fire._

"_Feliciano … don't let go or you'll get lost. You're such an air-head!" That voice spoke out in the darkness. Not the deep male one from earlier. This one was the voice of a child. The one he always hears but can never remember._

"_Ve! Who are you?" Feliciano called, desperately hoping for an answer._

"_What's wrong? Why are you crying again?"_

_Crying? He was crying? Letting his fingers trail down his cheeks, Feliciano could indeed feel the tears. But why was he crying?_

"_Don't cry. It's easier to smile than to cry, you know. Whenever things are difficult, try to smile instead and I promise you'll feel all your worries vanish!"_

_Smile?_

"_Ve? But why don't you smile?" his past self asked in a sob._

"… _Because, love, I'm not allowed to be happy. But don't worry. I won't cry either. Never. I'm not sad Feliciano … I'm just not happy."_

"_But … Isn't that sad?" Both Feliciano and his past spoke in sync._

_That seemed to trigger something. Feliciano found himself faced with his own younger reflection. Smaller and younger than he ever remembered himself to be. The small crying child blinked at the older man before backing away in fear. Another child came up and wrapped comforting arms around the small Italian who immediately buried his face in the other's chest, crying louder._

_Feliciano looked down the other child. He didn't remember him. His roman toga was one of a servant, bare feet while young Feliciano wore sandals, short messy blond hair that hid partially his face but couldn't hide the intense emeralds behind the golden bangs. The child didn't look much older than Feliciano himself, yet it behaved like an older sibling, protecting the younger one. His pearly white skin had bruises and recent scars at which Feliciano could only wonder._

"_Sad?" The blond child spoke with a smirk, eyes staring straight at Feliciano._

"_Things are not as simple as that, love. Happy and sad, right and wrong, black and white, day and night, life can never be as simple as that. I'm not always sad. Nor am I always happy. And sometimes I'm neither or both."_

"_Ve?" Feliciano couldn't even begin to understand what the child spoke._

"_Things like Happy and Sad, Right or Wrong, those are rules. Like the rules of a game. Unless you think life is a game, then those words are meaningless."_

"_Ve! But life isn't a game! … Is it?"_

"_Is it? Who knows … If it is though …"_

_Feliciano jumped back at the sudden fierce expression on the child's face, large evil smirk and emeralds burning of an insane fire._

"_If life were a game … I definitely wouldn't lose."_

_Fire._

* * *

Feliciano woke up to see his brother already by his bedside. Romano looked exhausted and as if he had been crying but Veneziano was too distressed to notice and he immediately sought his brother's comfort.

Lovino cringed slightly. He hated what he saw in his brother's mind. In fact, he hated seeing his brother's mind at all! Lovino had always known about this odd connection between him and his brother. Maybe it was a twin's thing? Or because they are one and the same country? Who knows. The last time he had been sharing his brother's dreams was when they still lived with Nonno Roma. After that, their separation seemed to allow their minds to disconnect and Romano suspects that Italy's recent unification might have rebuilt the mental link. Don't get him wrong, they don't share every single thought or even every damn dream. Until a year ago, nothing like that has happened. But now it became more and more frequent and Lovino suspects it to be due to the intensity of Feliciano's dreams. And it was damn intense, that's for sure!

A deep red blush grew on the Southerner's face as he recalled fragments of Feliciano's dream. He didn't like it. He didn't like the person he had seen making out with his stupid brother. He didn't like the way this man purred Veneziano's name. He didn't like his brother's ecstatic face or the lust in his amber eyes. Lovino did not like it one bit. He had forced himself to wake up as the dream was growing more and more intense. He didn't understand why it bothered him so much. Why should he care who his brother fucks or gets fucked by?! But the blonde's loving passion kept bothering him. Because this burning love was directed at his brother … and not him.

Romano shook his head in both anger and embarrassment. Why was he suddenly feeling possessive of the blonde bastard? Sure he was hot and sure Lovino wanted to feel that heated gaze on him … but why? Why now? Why him? And why was his brother feeling like this too? Did they really have to share everything? Their name, their land, their people, their dreams and now even their goddamn crush! Lovino let out a hiss of discontentment.

"F-Fratello …" Feliciano's sobbing voice brought him back to reality.

"Che?" Lovino snapped, anger still fusing his voice.

"You saw, didn't you?"

"… Si."

"Is that why you're angry?"

"Forget it. I don't care who you fuck in your dreams!"

"… ve … Fratello … thank you for worrying about me."

Lovino frowned even more. He couldn't bring himself to tell his clueless brother that the reason for his anger was due to him worrying about the idiot. In fact his anger was directed at the said idiot he was now consoling. But he couldn't tell him that.

"How much did you see?" Feliciano's voice sounded worried as if he didn't want his brother to know too much. Lovino lifted a curious eyebrow but answered.

"I woke up about the time you were getting laid by … _that guy_."

At that, Feliciano sighed in relief but then seemed to ponder a little.

"… Do you … Do you know who he is?"

Lovino's eyes widened in shock and he could honestly not believe his brother had just asked him that.

"Don't you? You were the one getting fucked!"

"Ve … He seemed familiar but … Fratello?"

Lovino had gotten up so suddenly he caused his brother to stumble and fall flat out on the floor. Feliciano lifted questioning eyes to his brother but Lovino couldn't care less. How could he have instantly recognised the blonde when his stupid brother didn't? And it wasn't even _his_ dream!

"If you can't tell by yourself, I not going to tell you." Lovino hissed and left the room, stomping loudly and angrily as he slammed the door shut.

Feliciano cringed a little but once he was alone again, fear started to creep up. He really didn't mean to impose these dreams on his brother. But he was glad that Lovino never got to see his unknown memories … yet.

"Blond … green eyes …" Feliciano mumbled to himself as he tried to recall the man that had made his heart burst. He took out a notepad and started to sketch what little he remembered.

Short messy blond hair … intense emerald eyes … milky white skin … beautiful smile … Uh?

Feliciano stopped drawing as he recognised the person he had unconsciously drawn. That's not possible, is it? It can't be right!

"Dio mio …"

* * *

"Arthur!"

The blond Englishman groaned in pain as he woke up. Great. He felt awful again. Guess it's time …

"ARTHUUUUUR!"

"WHAT?!" an irritated England snapped back at the loud calls of his Scottish brother.

"Oi! Don't yell at me! You're the one who's slept half the day away! It's almost 3pm, brat! Get your lazy arse out of that bloody bed or I'm sending North to wake you up!"

"I'm up already, wanker!" Arthur stomped out of his room and down the staircase. He saw his crimson haired brother smiling teasingly at him with his usual Cheshire Cat-like smile while ironing a pile of clothes. Scotland could be damn annoying when he wore that smile. But then again … so was England. The older one suddenly frown as he took in his brother's appearance and interrupted his ironing.

"Feeling sick?"

"Yeah … just a bit." Arthur shrugged. They both knew it would eventually come back but every time it did, Arthur could see Alistair's face crumble with guilt.

"Oi, oi, what's with that pitiful face? You know I hate pity." The Englishman growled and was relieved to hear his brother chuckle.

"Aye, and how could I ever pity you, you English demon!" The red hair teased.

"Where's Will?" Arthur looked around with a frown. It was oddly quiet in the Kirkland house and that is not a normal occurrence here.

"Gone food shopping with Fiona. We can deal with you once they get back."

"… I'm starving." Arthur mumbled as he headed for their kitchen.

"Your pet ate all of yesterday's meat." Alistair continued to explain, undisturbed by the fact that Arthur was probably ignoring him.

"And your damn horse broke my window last week. What do you want? Sympathy?" Arthur snapped back, almost out of habit.

"I say we put your damn cat on a leash."

"Right, the same way we lock up your horse in a stable."

The two's argument followed with a silent competition, both stubbornly ignoring the other.

"Alright, who drank all the milk?" Arthur's angry face popped out from behind the kitchen's door and glared at his brother.

"Sure it wasn't your cat?"

"My cat did no such thing and you know it!"

"Relax kitten, I told you Will went out to buy more food. You'll just have to wait."

"Fine." Arthur growled and only served himself some tea, only adding sugar to it.

He walked back to the living room and watched his brother iron a Welsh flag Tshirt. Probably Will's. In the bundle of clothes, Arthur noticed a brand new blue dress. It was quite elegant but modern. Reaching down to just above the knees, straps on the shoulders and sleeveless, it had a black leather belt around the waist and a silver buckle in the shape of a crown. Silver chains hung around the chest and bits of the dress had zippers sewed here and there. Arthur admired the piece with a smile.

"New dress?"

"The old one is kind of old fashion I thought. Would suit more a ball of 1700s than modern times." The Scotsman answered, still fully focused on his task. Arthur hummed in agreement.

"You're sure it's the right size?"

"Aye, North helped me choose it. Apparently I have bad taste." The man grunted and Arthur chuckled in amusement.

"Granted you do!"

"Want me to burn off that smirk of yours, Blondie?" Alistair threatened darkly with his iron. But Arthur wasn't afraid. His smirk grew wider.

"I'd like to see you try, darling!"

"Is that an invitation?" Alistair smirked back and the two started another one of their stare-to-death contests. Arthur was first to look away but only to fetch himself some more tea. And Alistair resumed his ironing.

"She also bought a few other things."

"Who?" Arthur's voice answered back from the kitchen.

"Fiona. When we bought the dress."

"What other things."  
"No clue. She didn't let me see. Oi! Is this yours or mine?"

Arthur looked up as he walked back in with a warm cup of tea. Alistair was holding out a Union Jack hoodie, frowning at it as if willing it to speak so the clothing could answer his question.

"Yours. Mine's in my wardrobe." Arthur answered.

"Cheers." Al mumbled back.

They stayed in a comfortable silence, for once undisturbed by others. Usually it was so noisy in the Kirkland household that they never got time to relax like this. Holidays definitely are the best!

"When's the next UN meeting?" Alistair asked with sudden worry.

"Not until next month. Relax."

"Says the tosser who got sick the last time!"

"Are you done complaining?"


	6. England's missing day

**Chapter 5: England's missing day**

America walked in the conference with his sparkling hero grin, eyes twinkling and chest pumped up, looking perfect … or so he believed.

"AMERICA! What is the meaning of this? First you summon us to a meeting without any warning and you still have the nerve of arriving late!"

Everyone's ears were blown away by Germany's outburst. Feliciano cringed but not because of Germany's screaming at America. He was used to it. And it was less painful when the screaming wasn't directed at himself. The Italian cringed because the person who walked in was … just America. Not what he was hopping for.

Next to him, Romano was hissing curses and death threats aimed at "Loud Potato Bastard" and "Late Hamburger Bastard". Prussia was cackling like a mad man, to Austria's irritation. France only watched the argument with amusement and was about to join in with America and Germany. Spain and Portugal were having a siesta along with Greece. Hungary was threatening Prussia with her frying pan. Japan was trying to escape Turkey's attention. Canada … uh … who was he talking about again? Russia was kolkoling as usual and being scary … until he started shrieking like a little girl when Belarus showed up. The Baltics watched Russia, not daring to get in the way of Belarus and her wedding, with Poland running a live commentary on it all. The Nordics were having their own little fight between Sweden and … Finland? That was odd. Finland looked really scary too and Sweden seemed uncomfortable when faced with his angry partner … they were together, right? Um, Feliciano wasn't exactly sure what kind of relationship they had but, never mind. Switzerland was shooting at anyone who dared to approach within a 5 meters radius of Liechtenstein. Belgium was idly chatting with Netherlands and scolding him on his smoking habit. China was being chased by Korea about his breasts with Taiwan recording everything on camera. And now India, Australia and New Zealand were playing cricket in the other end of the conference table … the ball hit Mexico who started shooting at random and that triggered Switzerland who really shot everyone! And then America finally spoke what Feliciano had been wondering since the summoning of this meeting.

"Hey Dudes! Where's England?"

* * *

Arthur woke up, groggy and feeling like he was about to vomit. Great. Just his day, isn't it? Luckily he was on holiday so no work and no bloody conference. He slid out of his sheets and glanced at his alarm clock. 1:30pm. Not too bad. Yesterday he didn't wake up until 3, so in comparison, he's up early today. Besides, Arthur's not an early riser anyway. A soft purring/snoring sound at the foot of his bed distracted the nation. Looking down, Arthur smiled at the large cat curled up in a ball at his feet. He gently stroked the soft golden fur.

"You worried? Thanks."

A low growl answered him before the cat snored away. Arthur got up and went to get a shower. He'll damn need one. Then maybe he should rest a bit more just to get himself fully recovered.

"Tomorrow I should be fine … What the … AL! WHY ARE YOUR FUCKING BOXERS IN THE BATHROOM'S SINK?! Ah no, those are … Ireland's. AL! WHERE IS THE GODDAMN IRISH BASTARD! AND WHY DIDN'T YOU BLOODY TELL ME THAT HE WAS COMING OVER?!"

With all the shouting that ensued in the household, Arthur never heard the persistent ringing of his mobile.

* * *

**Much later that same day …**

"Relax Amérique! You only warned us yesterday about this meeting, and not everyone was able to come either. You can't expect Angleterre to be free for your every whims." France tried not to laugh at America's dark and depressed face, his cerulean eyes glued to his mobile, glasses tilted on his nose. The American lifted a worried expression, eyes wide and panicked as he showed his phone's screen to the blond.

"But look! He didn't answer back any of my calls! I called him on his mobile, his work, and his home and he till didn't answer! I left him tones of voicemails and text messages and I didn't get one single reply! Something must be wrong! Arthur would never leave me unanswered and even if he couldn't come he would still find a way to be here! Maybe someone kidnapped him! Alien abduction! Or worst, terrorists! I bet those fucking Arabs are behind this!"

"Alfred … Leave them be. I assure you, the Middle East has little interest in kidnapping Angleterre. Maybe he's busy."

"But …!"

"What if he's in trouble?" The shy voice of North Italy asked and caused both pairs of blue eyes to widen in surprise. Why was Italy, of all people, worried about England? France shook his head in exasperation.

"Feli, trust Big Brother on this one, Arthur is probably just busy with his affairs in the UK … or actually, now that I think about it … oui, I think Scotland mentioned that they were on holiday …"

"WHAT? So he's enjoying himself while we're working our asses off at this meeting?!" America's worry switched to indignation instantly but Italy noticed the sparkle of relief in the American's blue eyes.

"America, it's your fault we are stuck at this meeting in the first place! Why did you drag us all the way to New York for anyway?" Germany sighed while pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. How he wished he could be on holiday too like England …

"Eh? Oh yeah! Uh …" Alfred paused for a moment. "Damn. I can't remember! Ha ha ha! Sorry dude!" A nervous laugh followed and Germany's sigh increased. France was browsing through America's phone and a worried frown creased his forehead. Italy walked up to him, suddenly worried too.

"Big Brother Francia? Is something wrong?"

"… I'm not sure. Alfred is right when he says that Arthur always answers back even if a bit ate. It's not like him to just ignore calls … … especially not that many!" France's eyes widened as he scrolled down all of Alfred's missed calls to Arthur's mobile … just the mobile.

"Hey … Alfred … Exactly how many times did you try phoning Arthur?" France smiled nervously at the American who was now busying himself in an argument with Prussia. Alfred frowned, mentally counting, before he answered.

"To his office, not many. Only about 20 times because Arthur hates to be interrupted when he works. To his home, 50 to 60 times but I guessed he might be out so I didn't push too much either. I hoped to catch him on his mobile but after phoning for over 120 times, and leaving 80 to 90 voicemails, I concluded that texting was the answer and I sent him maybe 300 texts … a bit less but roughly 300. Why? Did he answer?"

The stunned faces of his fellow nations and their sudden panic confused him. But the words "That's not right! With all this Arthur should definitely have answered back! Something's wrong!" told him every thing he needed to know. Well of course something is wrong! That's what he's been trying to tell them since this morning! America rolled his eyes at the sudden panic the room was taking until Germany brought order back.

"THAT'S ENOUGH! EVERYONE SHUT UP!"

And so they did.

"America! Since when have you been trying to contact England?" Germany started his interrogation and was gathering all the facts he could get to solve this issue quickly so that they could move on with the meeting and so he could head home as soon as possible because he was damn tired!

"Well, since I tried to tell him yesterday that we were having a world conference today. I thought he was sulking and that he would scold me in the meeting today but since he wasn't here I started texting him a lot."

"So you only texted today? All the phone calls date from yesterday?" France asked with an incredulous face.

"Yeah. I didn't want to interrupt the meeting." America shrugged as if the explanation was obvious. France face-palmed very much like Germany would.

"And you didn't think that something was wrong yesterday after all those missed calls?" Germany continued, undisturbed.

"No. Like I said I thought he would come and scold me in person. You know there's a time difference so I assumed he didn't want to get out of bed to answer me."

"He would if you kept phoning him a 100 times." France muttered as he himself tried to phone his young master. Everyone watched, anxiously waiting as they listened to the ringing.

"This Arthur Kirkland. If you're British, please leave a message. If it's the frog, go fuck yourself. If it's the Hamburger git, learn to speak English before calling me. If it's anyone else and if you're not going to waste my time … alright, you can leave a message. And if it's Ireland, don't bother complaining to me about North trying to murder you!"

Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

All the nations stared at the phone in an awkward silence soon interrupted by America.

"See! I told you!"

* * *

"Alright people! We are going to find England! Operation Find the Missing Brit continues!"

"America will you shut up!" France groaned, holding his head. None of them had slept since they had been trying every thinkable way to contact England with no success. It was approaching 3am and America, high on Italian coffee specially prepared by the Italians to keep everyone awake, was as noisy if not more than ever!

Feliciano on the other hand, didn't need coffee to stay awake. Just the thought of England being in trouble made him restless. He looked around at the remaining countries still conscious enough to help with the search. Spain was there but his brother Portugal had stated that if England were in trouble, no doubt they would have known by now so he left. Prussia was just as high as America and they were now having a "I'm-more-awesome-than-you" argument with a very pissed Germany who was trying to clear his headache. France was still trying to reach anyone from the four nations that composed the UK, he even tried Ireland but got hung up on by the Irish siblings, Wales didn't answer, and Scotland's phone was switched off. China was prevented from falling asleep due to the scary Russian standing way too close to him for his personal comfort. Japan was avoiding the coffee since the last time he had tasted some he had turned as carefree and Italian looking as Italy (from that time he visited Italy), it still is a traumatising memory for the Asian. Canada was helping France in trying to find a contact who could lead them to England as they were now trying all of England's colonies or ex-colonies. Romano was fast asleep with Spain and the coffee had no effect on them now. For nations who drink coffee like water, the hyper effect eventually doesn't affect you anymore.

"Rien à faire! I don't think we'll get anyway of contacting those British idiots." France sighed.

"Ve! But we have to! What about England?"

"Italy, I don't think you should worry yourself. For all we know, they might be off on holiday and didn't want to be interrupted."

"B-But …"

"I think Italy is right, Francis. Arthur would never switch off completely." Canada spoke up quiet as a falling leaf and France nearly didn't hear him.

The Frenchman sighed, thinking for any other place they could look. They had been to the British Parliament and were sent off, the Prime Minister had explained that he didn't know where his countries were spending their holidays. The Queen said she had no knowledge of their whereabouts but that she didn't worry for their well-being as she was sure they would soon come back. Arthur's office in London was empty. Arthur's flat in London was empty. Scotland's house in Edinburgh was empty. Wales and North's own houses were empty too. And even Ireland had left Dublin! Now France really had no idea where to look …

"What about _that_ house?" Canada suggested but once again, nobody heard him, not even France.

"What about _that_ house?" Spain suggested with a yawn as he got woken up by Prussia and America's argument. The other two latins stared at him with confused eyes while Canada sighed "I just told you that …".

"What house?" France questioned.

"You know, the one Arthur lives in with his siblings. Gibraltar always goes there when she visits."

"He's right, Hong Kong told me about this place too. He called it the Union House." China nodded in agreement.

"And where is it?" Germany clicked his tongue in irritation and impatience, his headache getting ever worse. Spain and China glanced at the map France had displayed. Both pointed towards the north of England.

"Somewhere around here." They both spoke in sync and then started to glare at each other.

"Actually it's a bit higher up but you got the general location right." Matthew commented though he didn't expect anyone to notice him. And nobody did!

"We should get people who know the place. China, call over Hong Kong and Spain, you call Gibraltar." France concluded as he folded away his map.

"Ve! Will England be there?"

"Hopefully because if not, I have no idea where in the world those siblings disappeared to." France sighed.

* * *

Her feet dropped and she rolled on the floor laughing her lungs out. Spain tapped his foot in irritation as he waited for his daughter to calm down.

"You _lost_ my dad?! That is the funniest thing I have ever heard!"

"Victoria … It's not funny!" Antonio hissed, very angry to see his daughter show this little composure in front of his fellow nations. But Gibraltar fell in another fit of laughter.

"You're right, it's not … it's _bloody hilarious_! Oh, mi dios … my stomach hurts!" She finally calmed down to a giggle, breathing heavily. Her emerald eyes identical to Arthur's looked up to meet the angry olive ones of Antonio. A teasing smirk stretched her lips and Antonio swore he could see Arthur through her, despite her very Spanish looks.

"Alright, so you want me to show you the Union? Sorry but that's classified!" The girl smirked darkly, while brushing off her shoulder her cascading black curls.

"Oi! Bastardo, get your daughter to guide us there or we'll never find Arturo!" Romano growled while shaking Spain's shoulders violently. Gibraltar frowned.

"Why do you want to see him anyway?"

"We had a meeting and we tried to contact him but England never answered or showed up! Something must be wrong so we are trying to find him and even his siblings won't answer!" America explained in a fast tracked speech that could rival Italy in speed.

The Spanish girl blinked. That was odd indeed. Then again … if it was that time of year again … She frowned in sudden concern. If something happened to England then she couldn't just stand there and do nothing! Even if that meant helping out the damn Spaniard and his stupid friends. Bloody great. Why did it have to be her?

Before the girl could speak, she was interrupted by China's shout.

"I'm back, aru! With Hong Kong!"

Her head spun and a wide grin followed suite as she recognised her Asian relative. The Chinese man looked pretty pissed at being forcefully dragged out of bed but the other nations wouldn't be able to tell this from his poker face. She, however, could see right through any of his façades. They were exactly like England's so she knew how to look through them. Hong Kong's deep brown eyes met her emeralds and his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A silent exchange occurred between them through eye contact.

"_What?"_ He asked.

She glanced at her Spanish father and the group.

"_Same as you."_

"_Why?"_ His head tilted ever so slightly.

She tapped her eyebrows.

"_England."_

His eyes widened in concern and he lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"_What happened?"_

She shrugged.

"_Not sure."_ Her expression then darkened. _"But I'm worried."_

Hong Kong nodded and that concluded their silent conversation.

* * *

After a long explanation, Gibraltar and Hong Kong agreed to help the desperate nations. They reached a large mansion in the north of England, early in the morning. The quietness of the place caused distress to Gibraltar and Hong Kong. Usually, this house is never quiet. If it is then that must mean …

"Alright! Let's investigate!" America cheered as he led the way to the house but was stopped by Hong Kong's smaller figure.

"Aiya? Hong? What are you …?" China tried to pull his son out of the doorway but the Cantonese man didn't budge. His eyes glaring threateningly at whoever would dare to step a toe into the house.

It was rare to see Hong Kong show emotions, but when he did, when he got angry like that, China could swear he was looking at England. Hong Kong's European genes made him taller and stronger than China so he had no difficulty in pushing him aside. But America was another story. Alfred felt irritated by the challenge he saw in Hong Kong's eyes.

"What? You wanna fight?" the American smirked, moving into a punching position.

"Amérique! Attention!"

But by the time America heard France's warning, a heeled boot made contact with his cheek, kicking him to the ground. Groaning in pain, Alfred looked up and felt a sudden fear as he was faced with the intense emeralds. For a second, he actually thought he was looking at a furious England but then, he recognised the tanned skin, dark long hair, and the Spanish features. Ok, just Gibraltar but damn can she kick!

"Gibraltar! What are you trying to do?!" Spain growled angrily as he grabbed his daughter's arm. The girl glared at him.

"You can hear it, can't you? This house is empty. So I don't see the point of going in." She snapped haughtily. Antonio's frown deepened as he understood where his daughter was going with this.

"So essentially … you don't want me to go inside. Why guide us here then?"

"Well, there was a chance that England would be in trouble so I couldn't just stand there, could I? But since they are not in the Union then …"

"Then?"

"Then there's nothing to worry about." Hong Kong concluded, still guarding the door. The other nations frowned but Canada was the one to ask.

"Um, Leon? Could you explain? I agree that England and the others are not here but how can you be so sure that Mister England isn't in trouble?"

This time, everyone heard him. Gibraltar was the one to answer.

"That's classified."

"Que?! Is there anything about the British bastardo that isn't classified?!" Spain's temper started to boil from the frustration and lack of sleep. But Gibraltar is just as hot-headed as he is and not one to give up easily an argument.

"Well, why do you care anyway Espana? He's not your lover anymore!"

Antonio growled darkly and Prussia hurriedly stopped him from getting his axe. In the growing tensions, none noticed the small boy in a sailor's uniform that slipped inside the house through a window. Oh, he knew how to pick locks and windows so he had no difficulty. How do you think he managed to infiltrate so many world meetings unnoticed?

"Ok … nobody home but maybe …"

The boy knew this house by heart. Whenever he came over, he always stayed in this house. Even if it wasn't often that he visited. He actually had to beg Sweden and England. Weird that England would not want him to come and visit but he just assumed that the guy was a jerk! … a nice jerk granted but still a jerk!

Rushing through every room, Sealand saw nothing to help him find his British relatives. But there had to be a clue somewhere … maybe the attic? Climbing up like a monkey, the blond boy reached the surprisingly not dusty attic. It was nice and clean and tidy. Although knowing England's a maniac for cleanness, it hardly surprised the boy.

It was a large place, where the British Iles stored all of their old stuff … like those Pirate outfits hanging over there along with other old military suits. And he had boxes full of whatever shit Arthur kept. Going through each of them while being mindful not to disturb anything or misplace things, Sealand concluded his search with an old rusty mirror.

"Nothing. Great! And here I am being worried about you and you don't even leave a single damn clue! Sweden and Finland are probably arguing again and when I actually wanted to talk to you, when I actually need and want you, you just vanish! This is not fair! I hate you Jerk England!"

"England?"

Sealand jumped at the strange voice. He looked around suspiciously but saw nothing.

"You wish to see England?"

The voice seemed to come from … the mirror? Sealand's eyes widened in frightened curiosity as he stared at the glowing mirror. A large toothy smile stretched on the mirror's surface that didn't seem to reflect anything. The smile spoke again.

"Who shall I announce?"

"Uh?"

"Your name, please."

"Sealand … P-Peter Kirkland?"

"Kirkland? Oh, I see. Another one. I see. Very well, she will be notified of your intrusion, the breaking into the house, the violation of private property and the verbal abuse of England's person. Have a pleasant day."

The smile vanished with a fading laugh that chilled Sealand's blood. Then, he actually understood what the mirror had just spoken and an angry pout covered his face.

"Hey! This is my house too, you know! I'm not breaking into it! I just want to see England! I just want to talk to him! Sweden and Finland have been arguing a lot recently and it scares me and he's the only one I can think of to solve this! I talked to Denmark and Norway and they said we should let things be but the more I let things be the worse things get! Hey, fucking mirror! Get me to England or I'll break you!"

"My my … What a disrespectful arrogant brat. You wish to see England? Fine! May you be satisfied! Or may you not!" The mirror grinned darkly as the shadowed figure emerged from the polished surface and grabbed a frightened Sealand before pulling him whole in the mirror.

* * *

"What was that?" America suddenly asked as they all heard the shriek of a young boy coming from the house. Gibraltar and Hong Kong were already rushing into the house, soon followed by the other nations.

"You check the ground floor and cellar, I'll do upstairs!" Gibraltar ordered and Hong didn't need her to repeat. They efficiently searched the house until Canada's voice called for them.

"E-Everyone! I … I think we might have a problem."

"Yo, Mattie? Where are you dude?" Alfred called as the troop of nation gathered back together.

"The attic. Come and see."

When they all had reached up to the attic, Canada turned to show them the sailor's hat laying on the floor next to an old rusty mirror.

"It's a hat."

"Thank you Hamburger Bastard for stating the obvious!"

"Isn't it Sealand's hat, aru?"

"Kol kol kol … So where is the little thing?"

"How did he follow us all the way here without anybody noticing?" Germany frowned in concern but Hong Kong was down analysing the mirror as he answered dismissively.

"The same way he gets into world meetings. Victoria … I think … the mirror …"

Gibraltar took a look at the mirror from over Hong's shoulder. She bit her lip before nodding.

"Yeah … it does look like one."

"What are you both talking about, aru?" China snapped, irritated to see his son fraternising with the Spanish Imbecile's daughter.

"This mirror holds a key spirit, shifu." Leon explained as he placed the mirror in view of everyone. They all stared at the mirror, confused and dumbfounded. All could see that this mirror didn't not reflect anything. It stayed black and empty.

"Ve? What's a key spirit?"

"You know how you get spirits sealed in certain objects? Well some of them can be turned into key spirits whose purpose is to serve as a guardian of a place or a passage way." Victoria explain as she paced herself facing the mirror.

"We already know that this house's spirit guardian is elsewhere. So this mirror is a passage way." Leon concluded the explanation, moving aside to let Victoria face the mirror.

"Ve! So what now?" Feliciano didn't understand what was going on but apparently there was a way to find Arturo through this mirror, right?

"What about Sealand-kun?" Japan asked.

"He probably angered the spirit and got dragged into the portal … England's gonna get mad." Leon sighed, anticipating England's angry scolding already.

"Hold on! You mean this mirror thing can lead us to England? Dude, that's awesome! Make it work!" Alfred urged the Chinese but they all silenced as the black empty surface of the mirror started to glow and a smile appeared.

"Well well, more intruders? How may I help all you lovely people?"

"Information." Victoria answered with a stern expression.

"I'm listening."

"Did you perhaps invite a small blond boy through your passage way?"

"Did I?"

"Minutes ago."

"Indeed I did! That reminds me, the little thing passed out when I got him to the other side. I wonder how he will get out of there … that promises to be fun …"

Gibraltar shivered. A key spirit can be quite powerful and has no issue in harming whoever considered as a threat to his master. She knew where Sealand was probably taken but that's precisely why she worried. That somewhere is already dangerous as it is, if the damn spirit had dropped him in one of the most dangerous corners of the place … England is going to be furious. She could already hear the scolding.

"Give him back, please."

"I apologise but that I cannot do, lady."

"Why not? This boy is an intruder like us …"

"Oh, indeed. But he claimed his name to be Peter Kirkland. And I have the obligation of respecting a Kirkland's wish. He wished to meet England. So I let him through. But I wonder if he'll be able to find England." The mirror laughed sadistically, chilling everyone's blood. Victoria growled angrily before stepping forward, emerald flashing dangerously.

"I am Victoria Carriedo Kirkland and you _will_ obey me!" Her stance, her tone, her expression, she was the exact reflection of Arthur when he stood a proud pirate captain. The mirror groaned in annoyance.

"Why do all you people suddenly show up and why are you claiming to be Kirklands?"

"Spirit, be quiet!"

To everyone's surprise including Victoria, the mirror did as he was told. After all, who was he to question a Kirkland?

"Mirror, if you can't bring Peter back … then take me to him." Victoria calmly spoke.

"Hold on! What about us?" America yelled angrily.

"You guys are going to leave this house and that's it! Leon take them out!"

"Roger Captain." The Chinese man smirked at the frustration of the girl. But he was soon faced with an angry American and there was little to no chance of making Alfred budge if he didn't want to.

"Yo Mirror! I'm Alfred F. Jones! And I want you to take all of us through your whatever passage thingy to see England and get Sealand, ASAP! Got it?"

"You're wasting your time. You're not a Kirkland, America." Hong Kong smirked in satisfaction at the growling American.

"But I was an English colony before too! And you're part of China! You're not even a full country!"

"What's wrong with not being a full country?" Romano snapped.

"Guys, calm down, eh!"

"Canadia, shut up dude! And why aren't you getting pissed? Those brats are trying to stop us from seeing England! You were England's oldest colony, right! They guy raised us! We're like his kids so that fucking mirror better do as I say or else!"

"Amérique calm down! Getting angry won't solve anything …"

"Um … Mirror? My name is Matthew Williams and I used to be under Mister England's care. Would you please let us see England?"

"Don't you start too, Mattie!" Victoria growled.

"Victoria! Why are you trying to stop us? If Arthur is in danger then …"

"He's not in bloody danger! And won't be if you stop being such a stubborn bastard Espana!"

"Speak correctly to your father, young lady!"

"What father? Since when where you ever my father?"

"That's enough, aru! Spain, keep your family business elsewhere! Hong, get that mirror to transfer us to wherever England is!"

"I can't do that shifu."

"Leon Wang Kirkland, don't you dare disobey me!"

"Sorry shifu, but I have no issue in disobeying you. And I suggest you do as I say if you don't want those compromising videos of Korea jerking you in your sleep to go live on youtube."

"WHAT? THAT'S BLACKMAIL!"

"Shifu, don't state the obvious, I know what it's called."

"Kol kol kol! I want to see! Yao Yao with Korea, da? Sounds fun!"

"Dude! That's sick, old man! You and Korea?"

"I WAS ASLEEP AND THE GUY ASSAULTED ME!"

"Keep telling yourself that Shifu. If it makes your conscious less guilty."

"LEON! WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ARU?!"

"You may have been asleep but you still looked like you enjoyed it a bit too much."

"Which video was that?" Victoria asked with a malicious smile.

"The one I emailed you last month."

"Oh! Si! That one! I loved it! Taiwan's good with a camera! We even get full sound on China moaning!" she giggled at China's mortified expression.

"YOU SENT THAT VIDEO TO THE SPANISH CUNT?!"

"OI! ARE YOU INSULTING MI CARA, CHINESE WHORE?"

"Next time it's your turn." Hong continued chatting with Victoria, both ignoring their arguing parents.

"Si si, don't worry! I've gotten my hands on a really nice shot of Antonio in a maid's outfit from when he lost a bet against Uncle Portugal! I'll send it to you."

Hong Kong smirked and now both China and Spain were staring at the teens with horrified expression.

"WHAT? HOW DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS BET? DID PORTUGAL TELL YOU?"

"Of course he did! What did you expect?"

"WHY DID YOU SEND IT TO THE CHINESE BASTARD?!"

"Blackmail material. We exchange on a regular basis. I also have some from other nations. It's called being prepared." Victoria smirked her pirate grin.

"Well, I can understand that. Alright, makes sense." The mirror suddenly spoke, interrupting everyone. They all looked back to see Canada chatting with the mirror.

"Alright, kid. I'll let you through since you seem decent. But that brother of yours, I don't recognise."

"That's fine. Thank you very much." Matthew nodded then turned to the other nations.

"I convinced him to let us all through."

"WHAT?!" Victoria and Leon yelled in panic. But they didn't have time to argue than a large shadow jumped out of the mirror.

All Feliciano saw was the giant paws of a purple cat and his wide grinning smile as the animal grabbed them and pulled each of them inside the mirror at inhuman speed. Soon, the mirror stopped glowing and only the sailor's hat remained on the floor.

* * *

The alarm clock rang …


	7. The Story

**Chapter 5 and 1/2: The story**

* * *

**AN: This may be crap and the story might not make sense for now but I assure you that it will (maybe) by the end of it ... this chapter being kind of a preview to the end of the story. Anyway, for those wondering, Alice and Arthur are linked but you'll have to figure out how. Thanks again for all the kind reviews and I hope I won't disapoint you guys!**

* * *

Arthur tapped his fingers against his desk, staring inquisitively at the group of nations in his office. His emerald green eyes were as cold and calculating as ever, not showing any of his thoughts. Stern expression, the only thing that showed England's disbelieving surprise was the lifted thick eyebrow.

"Let me get this straight." The blond Englishman finally spoke, breaking the tensed silence. He poured himself a glass of whisky from the bottle he kept in his desk draw.

"You organised a last minute meeting on America's whim. And because I didn't answer back, you assumed I was in danger and went looking for me, despite knowing that I was on _holiday_. You illegally tried to track my phone, went to bother my Prime Minister and my Queen, you broke into all of my and my siblings' houses and my office, and finally you blackmailed Leon and Victoria into guiding you to our Union house …"

"Yo! Dude, that's not true! We didn't blackmail them, they both agreed to help and then they changed their minds!"

"Aiya! If anything, they were the ones blackmailing us!"

"Si! You should educate that son of yours better!"

"Excuse me, aru? Your daughter is the one who kept influencing Hong!"

"Ve … let's not fight …"

"Kesese, no, let's!"

"Oh la la … not again."

"My daughter wasn't the one with videos of you getting blowjobed by Korea!" Spain smirked victoriously.

"Well, my son didn't take pictures of you in a maid's outfit after getting out-played by Portugal in a bet!" China replied darkly.

"Well, my daughter is not a pyromaniac blackmailer gangster!"

"Yeah, you're right! She's just a barbaric sea witch whore of a pirate!"

"Well at least she does have a sex life unlike your son! Which is surprising coming from a Chinese whore who'll be willing even in his sleep!"

"Just because my son doesn't go around fucking everything with a pulse like your daughter, doesn't mean he is deprived! It's called having standards! But you wouldn't know since your arse is reputed to have made the tour of Europe at least 50 times!"

"My daughter is a respectable lady and her standards are to fuck only the best of men! I bet your son doesn't even fuck women! He's an emotionless, mentally disturbed, cold hearted and sex-deprived bastard!"

"As opposed to your daddy-complexed, alcoholic, violent, prostitute of a daughter with a mouth as foul as Lovino's if not worse! I'm not surprised since you raised both! And you can't even get respected by her!"

"At least Victoria can speak her mind when she needs to! Your son never even shows affection or respect! Can you even get him to talk to you? Oh, I'm sorry, I bet you don't talk! I bet he's too busy blowing up your house with dynamite!"

"It's firecrackers! It's harmless!"  
"Doesn't sound harmless in the way you always complain about it!"

"Because you never complained about your daughter? About how she spends more time at your brother's place than yours? What poor parenting! No wonder she turned out a whore!"

"Is it my fault your kid is a calculating cold hearted monster?"

"It definitely is your fault that your daughter is a violent, alcoholic, whore of a pirate!"

"YOUR SON IS A BASTARD WHO DOESN'T EVEN SPEAK YOUR LANGUAGE!"

"AS OPPOSED TO YOUR DAUGHTER WHO CONSTANTLY REFUSES TO JOIN YOUR NATION? FEELING INSECURE, SPANIARD?"

"INSECURE? WOULDN'T THAT BE YOU? SCARED OF LOSING YOUR SON TO ARTURO IF YOU GAVE HIM INDEPENDENCE?"

"YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A CHANCE OF GETTING YOUR DAUGHTER BACK SINCE SHE'S ALL EYES FOR ARTHUR ANYWAY! JEALOUS OF YOUR OWN DAUGHTER, PIRATE?"

"I AM NO PIRATE!"

"YOUR DAUGHTER IS!"

"WELL, YOUR SON IS A PYROMANIAC GANGSTER!"

"BETTER BE THAT THAN THE WHORE OF EUROPE!"

"WHY? BEING THE WHORE OF ASIA SUITS YOUR BASTARD BETTER?"

"DON'T YOU DARE …!"  
"SI? WHAT WILL YOU DO?"

"I'll bloody murder both of you fuckers, rip off your balls and feed them to you before cutting you to tiny pieces, feed you to Wales' dragon and then drag you back from hell to do it all over again if I hear another ill spoken word about my children. Do I make myself clear?"

China and Spain froze at the eerie cold voice of the furious blond. Arthur hadn't raised his voice but the fire in his emeralds was enough of a threat. Every nation took an instinctive step back while the Englishman poured himself another whisky. He noticed his bottle was nearly empty. He'll have to ask Al to bring him some more next time.

"As I was saying …" Arthur took a sip before continuing.

* * *

…

"And that's when I found you asleep in my flat. Is that all?"

They nodded. Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Do you really expect me to believe this? This is even worse than Alfred's poor excuse of an alien abduction. A girl in a castle playing games? Really? If there was such a thing in my land, don't you think I would know about it? What I think is that you guys had way too much to drink. I can smell the alcohol anyway."

"Ve! But the girl gave us stuff to drink too! So that's why …"

"Right I forgot! Magic potions to make you shrink and cupcakes to make you grow! Of course! Have you all been reading Alice in Wonderland? Next you're going to tell me that you fell through a rabbit hole!"

"But Arthur …"

"Enough! First off, you people don't believe in magic so why are you all suddenly trying to convince me of a tale that even I think is utterly ridiculous?! And you blame me for having crazy hallucinations?"

"But Angleterre … there really was a …"

"Yes, yes! And her name was Alice and she drank tea with the Mad hatter, the Red Queen and the White Queen! Of course!"

"… Actually, dude, she did!"

"Get out." Arthur growled, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

Slowly, one after the other, all of the nations left the room. Arthur's cold expression changed to a teasing smirk as he brushed a hand in his recently cut hair. He cleared his paperwork away and glanced out his window, glass of whisky in hand.

"Guess that could have gone worse." He nodded to himself with a satisfied grin.

In a year's time, nobody will remember. It will all just be like a hazy dream, a distant memory, a story soon to be turned into a legend as far from the truth as it can get.

And just like any story, given enough time, it will be forgotten. All gone.

* * *

Alice smiled, glass of whisky in hand, green eyes trailing out the window. Only she would remember. And that's the way things should be. Smile turned into a smirk, she turned back to her chess board and picked up her king in all the nicely arranged white pieces.

The phone rang …

"Hello?"

"Oi, did something happen while I was gone?" Al's voice sounded worried. She couldn't blame him. What had happened was not something that should have happened. And she had played a very dangerous game in allowing the other nations to see her. A much more dangerous game than they could ever imagine.

"That, dear brother, I cannot tell. Secret."

"What? What are you talking about?! Is everything alright?"

"I don't know. I haven't gotten a chance to see the after-effects."

She hung up on her brother, and moved a black queen in the spot where the white king previously stood. One black piece in a board of white.

"The game is still on."


	8. Peter Pan caught by Davie Jones

**Chapter 6: Peter Pan caught by Davie Jones**

The alarm clock rang …

She groggily woke up, hiding her head among the countless pillows of her king size bed as she tried to ignore the persistent ringing of her alarm clock. Her hand slammed against the snooze button before dropping to the side of her bed like a lump of dead flesh. Soft breathing against her skin sent her shivers and she quickly retrieved her hand back and finally, opened her emerald eyes.

"Who the fuck set up that alarm?" She growled while glancing at the clock. 10 am. She should wake up.

Almost in slow motion, she dragged her feet to her en suite bathroom and showered. On her way, she nearly tripped over the large form of a cat and earned a low growl of discontentment from the animal, which she ignored anyways. Once refreshed and cleaned up, she went about to fetch her clothes. It's been a while since she's worn those. With a smile she took out from her wardrobe the new blue dress Alistair had bought her. She liked it. It definitely was her style. Laying the dress aside, she searched for some under-garments. Her eyes narrowed and a displeased clicking of her tongue showed her unpleasant surprise at the new bras and underwear in her drawer.

"North … I am going to bloody kill you." She spoke coldly as she picked up a black lacy bra that she had seen on strippers but wouldn't dream to wear herself. She tends to prefer a plain white bra with no frills, laces or _anything_ on it! Boring, maybe but that's because she's not used to fancy girly things. And Northern Ireland should know that by now! Oh god, she even bought the underwear to go with the bra! Kill me now …

"Where are my old ones? Did she sneak into my room yesterday and changed all of my clothes?! If I get my hands on her …" The blond girl hissed threateningly.

It was obvious that she would have to wear one of those new underwear. Bloody Fantastic! It's not like anyone was going to see under her dress so what's the point of wearing those … things? Sighing, she resigned herself and slipped on her black lacy underwear and bra. She judged herself in a mirror. Not bad. Good thing she didn't put on any weight since last time.

Not particularly tall but with voluptuous curves and feline movements, she had a pearly white skin that easily caught sunburns and it really annoyed her. She'd like to be able to tan like the others and have a caramel skin like Portugal … Oh well! At least she doesn't have any freckles like North or Ireland. Scot had a few too but not much. Her slender fingers traced down her body, drawing out the few scars it still held. She had been in so many battles, and even thought time had healed so many injuries, some scars remain. Like the white line that crosses down her chest. It faded with time but she could still feel and trace it with her fingers. The line slightly paler than her own skin colour was all that's left of an old gapping wound caused by none other than her dear brother. Oh, no worries, she had given him just as many wounds as he had inflicted on her. Violent bloody fights. That was all they had. Good thing it's over now. She hated those times of wars.

Her fingers trailed down her many tattoos. First the golden shadow of a lion on the hunt that slid down her hip, the black reproduction of a skull wearing the British Jewelled Crown on her ankle, an electric guitar with the union jack painted on it crossed on her lower back, just above the jean waist. Along with two old fashioned, with Celtic characteristics, reproductions of wings that expanded on her back and on her shoulder blades. And finally, a blooming red rose on her left shoulder with its thorns circling down her neck and arm all the way to her wrist. She let her fingers linger on the rose. Through the intricate pattern of petals was hidden a Celtic seal only noticeable by touch as it was burned deep into her flesh permanently. And behind that seal … She traced the burnt skin, memories resurfacing from long ago.

Shaking her head, she cleared away all negative thoughts of her past. The past is gone and sealed away. Now's not the time to remember. Her emerald eyes looked at her reflexion once again, observing herself after one year. She didn't change much, nor did she expect herself to change. After all those years, she would be surprised if she changed. One would think she looked like a mid-twenty year old woman when in fact she was centuries old. But not a country. Well, strictly speaking not a country anymore. Her. As she is, she doesn't exist.

Brushing a hand though her short blond hair, she noticed that the golden messy mane was already growing and reached to below her ears. Someone had been messing with her hair again. Why did they want to impose long hair on her? Every time she leaves the place she has to get it cut! Every damn time!

"Well, my eyebrows aren't growing like my hair." She smirked traced the thin elegant line of her eyebrows. Not at all like her brothers, but that's because as a girl she doesn't have thick eyebrows. She did have the deep emeralds and was glad about it. The same eyes as her mother.

"Alright, I should get dress." She concluded her body examination and moved to fetch herself a pair of tights. Apparently Fiona had also changed those too. Although this time, she was impressed by her sister's choice. Smirking, she slipped on the stripped black and blue ones and went to fetch her shoes. Again, North had thought it wise to throw out the old stuff and buy brand new. How do you walk in those? No, better question: How do you even put them on?! And those boots … that's not even a heel, that's a needle! How can you even stand up, let alone walk?

Cringing, she left aside Fiona's new purchases and went to find herself her old pairs of shoes. Maybe old fashioned but she liked them and they were comfortable! And North didn't have time to throw them away yet! Thank god!

The woman smiled in relief as she pulled out from the far corners of her wardrobe a old pair of leather black boots and dusted them off. Worn out and old, they looked out of a vintage shop but they are in fact originals. Slipping them on, the boots reached mid-way to her knee, and had laces on the side to keep them still on her slender legs. Now, all that's left is the dress. She smiled at the new blue dress. Alistair always bought her blue. It started off as a tease because he was giving her clothes of the colours of the Scottish flag but she soon grew fond of them. Oh, she had other clothes and of various colours but she always kept a blue dress. Her only dress. Yes, because, as said before, girly stuff and dresses aren't really her thing!

Before she could put the dress on, she heard a sudden noise from downstairs. Frowning, she dropped the dress aside and slipped on some dark joggings before exiting her room. She forgot her top. Not that anyone should care in this house. Her siblings had left late last night and Al early this morning. She should be the only one here. Well, the only none creepy, magical, beyond normal presence around here. As she dashed down a corridor, frowning slightly when she heard panicked screams, she bumped into a crying Sealand, a scared to hell American yelling his lungs out, a panicked Prussian and a freaked out North Italy sobbing like a little girl. She hit the ground as she received the full weight of Sealand, America and Italy all latching on to her like a life line. Prussia seemed the only one still able to think straight and his eyes widened in shock when he saw her. He quickly averted his eyes away, red blush covering his face.

"What the bloody hell …" She breathed out then realised that Alfred, Feliciano and Sealand were only just realising that they had jumped on her, all had a deep flushed face and all were trying really hard not to stare at her inviting chest. About then, she remembered that she wasn't wearing a top. And she screamed.

* * *

**Hours earlier …**

Feliciano woke up, his head pounding and his stomach growling from hunger. He looked around, expecting to see his room and himself in his bed back in Rome. He did not expect to see a pirate with a crooked smile waving a hook around while chatting idly with flashing moving lights. Nor did he expect being chained to a mat on a ship in … in a bright orange room with no gravity and in which the ship floated like a cloud … the ship _and_ the waters underneath and around it. Floating. In an orange room. A big orange room. A massive orange room. With a giant chandelier made out of countless jewels and crystals and a ceiling painted with a night's sky at sea, showing stars and constellations with a lazy fog rising … wait … is the fog getting thicker? Is that painted ceiling actually changing? What the hell is going on?!

Looking around in sudden panic, Feliciano saw America unconscious and chained to the mat next to him. Sealand was also unconscious but her was tied with roped and laying at the pirate's feet. Said pirate suddenly noticed his awoken prisoner. With an evil smirk he walked towards the frightened Italian, his wooden leg resonating against the wooden deck with every step, and brushing his thick black beard with his calloused hand. A pistol clicked in the other before he pointed the gun at the nation's forehead. Feliciano trembled, cold sweat rolling down his temples and his voice going mute from fear. Never before had he been so intimidated or scared. Sparkles of amusement shone in the sadistic dark eyes of the pirate as he leaned forward, alcoholic breath hitting Feliciano's face when the man spoke.

"Awake now, are we? So lad, care to explain what business you might have in our home?"

"V-Ve … I'm sorry for intruding! Please don't kill me! I have family in … in … in anywhere you like but please don't hurt me! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Whatever I did, I'm sorry! Scusa! Scusa! Mi dispiace! I promise I won't do it again!"

The pirate's smug face turned disappointed and annoyed. He had hope the lad to be more resilient and actually try to put up a fight. What is this wimpy kid? How boring. And here he thought he could get some entertainment. It's not every day you get visitors around here! The man clicked his tongue, silencing Feliciano's pleads instantly with a glare.

"You bore me, kid. Wake up the other ones. I hope they'll be more entertaining." The pirate barked and Feliciano saw the waters supporting the ship move and shower Alfred and Peter, waking both of them in a shock and scream. America looked around, very much as surprised as Feliciano except he wasn't scared but amazed. Peter was just as fascinated until he noticed the scary pirate and instantly tried to coward away. He would have if he hadn't been all tied up. Alfred finally seemed to notice their situation and his own chains. He grinned, expecting them to easily break under his strength. They didn't budge. Alfred's shock soon got overcome by angry frustration as he tried to break the chains but in vain. The pirate all the while watched them struggle as he laughed loudly and cruelly. Oh, this is more like it! Struggle until your last breath!

"You can try all you want, lad, but those chains ain't going to break." He laughed at Alfred's furious glare.

"There is no chain I cannot break!"

"First time for everything."

"W-Who are you?" Peter squealed and suddenly shut his mouth when the pirate's dark gaze narrowed on him. Said pirate smirked sadistically while licking his lips.

"Ever heard the tale of Peter Pan, little boy?"

"… You can't be …" Sealand muttered in realisation and his eyes widened in panic. Alfred and Feliciano only frowned in confusion and the pirate simply laughed.

"Oh, don't worry yourself, Bell!" the man chuckled as he addressed one of the moving lights. Upon deeper watching, Feliciano realise that they weren't lights but fairies. Tiny humanoid beings with glowing wings. One of them had deep green butterfly wings and was seemingly talking to the Pirate Captain. The man frowned, glanced at the nations, then back at the fairy.

"Why should I do that? Intruders are to be dealt with. You know this, right?"

More fairies joined in the conversation. Their voices were so high pitched and quiet that Feliciano only heard them as a broken whistle from a distance.

"Ladies, ladies, there is no need to argue over this. Look, Bell, I'm not stupid enough to kill them, even if you think so. And tell your pals that I am not going to cut out their tongues although I agree it's a good idea. I'll just torture them al little bit, try not to leave too many scars and then you guys can fuck up their mind and memory all you want!" The Captain concluded with a cruel smile and made even America shake in fear.

"H-Hey! O-Our minds? T-Torture? What the hell are you talking about? And where is this place and who are you people and what the fuck is going on? Where's England?"

A knife flew towards America and missed his eye by a few millimetres as the blade lodged itself in the wooden mat just above Alfred's ear. Freezing in fear, his heart slamming in his chest menacing to break out of his rib cage, Alfred heard the drumming of his pulse louder than any other sound as he stared into the dark hateful eyes of the Pirate.

"Never speak that name in my presence again." A low threat escaped the man's voice as he casually took back his knife and made the cold blade brush past Alfred's cheek. Angry excited shouts were coming from the winged creatures but not directed at the Pirate. They were all glaring at America. The green Fairy named Bell flew towards the chained prisoners. Feliciano saw that if she looked human from far away, from up close, she had nothing human at all. Two arms and two legs but that was about it.

Her scaled skin was of the same shade as her emerald wings, legs longer than normal and clawed fingers, each hand and foot holding only three fingers. Her face looked more reptilian with sharp teeth and instead of hair, she had a skin crowing her head like some lizards would to intimidate. Her big golden eyes made Feliciano feel like she was staring into his mind. Little squeals escaped her mouth as she talked but the words were spoken into the nations' minds.

"Intruders are not allowed. You will all get your memory erased but first, Hook will take care of you." She smiled and her smile looked scarier than that of the Pirate.

"First, let's start with the boy!" The man chuckled as he hooked onto Peter's sailor shirt and lifted him up. The boy screamed in fear as e was tossed around and thrown towards edge of the deck where a plank awaited him. Eyes wide in fear, Peter started to cry.

"Leave him alone! He's just a kid! You can't do that!" Alfred yelled, for the first time in his life he was powerless … and he hated it. Hook's smirk grew wider.

"So? You're nations. Even if he's a kid, he's not unused to war. Well, I assume so. If he is ..." Hooking Peter's shirt once more and pulling the boy near his face, the pirate hissed his next words, the smell of rum invading Peter's space. "… then he's one spoiled brat."

"I-I'm not … a full nation … I've never … been to war …" Peter coughed and cried, his breath cut short from the pirate's grip on his clothing, closing onto his neck and making it hard to breath.

"Really now … and what might you be if not a nation?"

"M-micro …"

"Aye, I noticed you were runt."

"He's a micro nation, bastard!" America answered for the boy, panicked as he saw Sealand struggle for breath. "Let him go, you're strangling him!"

"Think I didn't notice, smart mouth?"

"LET HIM GO OR I'LL KILL YOU!" That only made the pirate laugh more.

"Aye! I'd like to see you try. You can't even free yourself. Here's a piece of advice, kid, don't go threatening the one who holds a blade to your neck."

Immediately Alfred felt the cold metal against his neck. Looking sideways he could see the large curved sword but nobody holding it. It just floated, threatening his life of its own accord as if the pirate had willed it.

"You won't get away with this." Alfred hissed darkly, ignoring the trinket of blood seeping out of the cut the blade caused on his neck as he struggled against it. Hook grinned darkly, shoving Peter to the side where the boy hit his head against the deck and cried in pain, holding his now bleeding head. The man walked towards America and hooked his neck, moving aside the sword.

"Actually, I will. Because you won't even remember this. Me, them, this room, this place, nothing. You might not be lucky enough to remember your own name once we are done with you."

"I won't let you! What have you done to our friends?"

The Pirate's face showed surprise followed by a dark frown.

"Friends? There's more of you? That's not good. Bell, go and warn everyone. There is more intruders. They mustn't get anywhere near the Mistress."

An agreeing squeal answered the man's order and the fairies parted away, flying out of the room through the floating door not far away. Alfred's eyes lingered on the door as he tried to think of an escape route to reach it. The pirate seemed to have read his thoughts.

"Don't bother, none of you are getting out. And I might actually start with you rather than the boy. A micro nation … really? Didn't know that could exist. So I'm guessing you two are full nations?"

"I am! I'm the United States of America! And Feliciano is North of Italy."

The pirate's expression darkened as he heard America's name. Then his black eyes narrowed on Feliciano, sceptic and again disappointed.

"North? North of Italy. So you're not a full nation either? What is that? Can anyone become a nation nowadays? This is ridiculous!"

He was interrupted by a sudden loud scream and a body being thrown into the room. Feliciano recognised the snowy white hair of Prussia as the man fell into the room. The Pirate sighed and motioned the waves to catch the falling man and drop him soaking wet on the hard deck, coughing and cursing.

"Damn it? What the fuck was that? So not awesome! And where the fuck am I now? Uh?" Prussia's intense red eyes met the cold black ones of Hook. Instantly he was on his feet into fighting position, earning an impressed look from the pirate.

"Finally someone who can fight. I was starting to wonder if the world peace had brought more idiots or not." The man smirked and to Feliciano's surprise, Gilbert smirked back.

"Oh well, technically I'm no longer a nation. But I must agree, the world turned so messed up even I'm disappointed."

"An ex-nation, a half-nation, a pipsqueak of a nation and a half arsed ex-colony claiming to be a nation. Lucky me! Why can't I get any decent entertainment?" The pirate sighed, dismissing the Prussian.

Wrong move.

Gilbert used that moment of carelessness to pounce on the pirate and knock him over, stealing his pistol from his belt before he got pushed away by a growling pirate. Hook glared darkly at the smug face of the albino who was now pointing his gun at him.

"Concerning them, yeah, I agree. But the awesome me is in a class of his own! I am the awesome Prussia and although no longer a nation, I am still as awesome as in the past! Now, you're going to answer me some questions. Questions number one: Who the fuck are you? Number two: Where the fuck are we? Number three: Where can I get some food because I'm starving! That'll do for now."

The pirate didn't seem to feel threatened by the pointed gun but instead he was amused and a sparkle of satisfaction shone in his eyes. He walked to the side of the deck and sat down on the ledge. Prussia followed his every move, not releasing him from the threat of the gun. Despite his confidence, the Prussian was disturbed by the other's calm demeanour.

"Alright, I'll admit, I'm a little impressed by your skills. And for that, I'll answer your questions. One: My name is now Hook but people used to know me as Jones. Two: You are on my ship. Three: Try the kitchens."

Glancing around suspiciously, Prussia took in the ship he was on. He was disturbed by the room but his eyes widened in sudden fear as he recognised the black torn out seals of the ship. An old Legend Arthur had once told him came to his mind as he glanced back at the smirking pirate.

"Your first name?" he asked with a cool and controlled voice, not wanting to show his dread.

"Davie." The pirate chuckled with a crooked smile. He may now be a fictional inspiration for Peter Pan but he was and still is a legend of the sea.

"And this ship …"

"Is mine."

"It's name?"

"Fling Dutchman."

"I knew it."

"Then why ask?"

Prussia didn't answer back. Of all the stories he had heard from Arthur, he had never thought any to be true. Legends! Stories! It was all just exaggerated truth and embellished myths! He didn't expect Arthur's stories to be true! And from what he had heard about Davie Jones, he would rather not have this Legend become true.

"You seem to have heard of me, Prussian." Hook tilted his head slightly in amusement as he watched the frigid military man.

"Just stories."

"Ah, but stories are all based on facts. You look surprised. Did you believe me to be only a mere myth?"

"Well, it's not every day I get to meet a legend!" Gilbert laughed, his mind busy in finding a plan to free his fellow nations and get the hell out of here.

"Indeed. But even so, you won't remember me soon."

"How is that?"

"Nothing much, I just can't allow any of you to remember this place."

"What place? Your ship?"

"You came from out side that room. You know perfectly what place I am talking about."

Gilbert didn't reply. He didn't know if he should agree with the man or not. Yes he had seen outside that room but he still wasn't sure if he had been dreaming or not. More like a freaky nightmare to be honest.

"I wonder … how many more of you are there?" The pirate continued, obviously finding a liking to his conversation with Gilbert.

"Now, you know I can't tell you that! What kind of strategists reveals all his cards?"

The pirate laughed, Gilbert took that opportunity of the man not paying attentions to move closer to America, blocking away Sealand from the view of the pirate. The boy looked at Prussia's free hand behind his back as the German drew out a Swiss knife from his pocket and dropped it before kicking it towards the boy. Then his attention was taken back by the pirate.

"I like you, lad. At least you seem to have some vague idea of what war is like and how the world works. So tell me … Where exactly did you here my tales from?"

"Does it matter?"

"No. But I'd like to know."

"England."

"Hm … Never guessed he was the one spreading my story. Although … knowing him, it's perfectly logical."

"So what's that thing about a hook?" Gilbert tried to distract the pirate, not daring to glance back towards Sealand.

"Hook? Oh right! Well, nothing much. Just another story. Davie Jones became a legend and I took on another name as a new story was born. I became Captain Hook. So now, people just call me Hook."

"That's kind of cheap. From a great pirate you switched to become a children's story?"

"Davie Jones was a feared man, kid. But nobody now remembers his name. However, everyone knows Hook. And that is what keeps me alive."

"… I don't get it."

"Really? I would think an ex-nation such as yourself would understand but I guess not. Now then, I should deal with that kid you just freed before you all get out of hand."

Prussia shot when he heard the pirate's words. Hook simply smirked as the bullet flew straight through him like he were a ghost. But he isn't a ghost. He's very much real and physical. Yet, no matter how many times, Prussia shoots, the bullets never so much as touch him.

"What the hell?! What is this?!" Alfred yelled as he saw the pirate walk towards the albino.

Prussia threw away the empty gun and started a fist fight with the man. In the meantime, Sealand had retrieved the keys to the chains from the Captain's cabin and hurriedly unlocked America and Italy's chains. As soon as he was free, Alfred went to help Gilbert but surprisingly, they had difficulties containing the man even when they were two against one.

"V-Ve … what should we do?"

"Here! Feliciano don't move!" Peter whispered before blowing golden powder onto the Italian who sneezed.

"Ve? What was that?"

"Fairy powder. Arthur had showed me some before and I found this bag of it in the Captain's cabin. I'm not sure what it does but hopefully it can help us get out of here." The blond boy answered before dusting some powder on himself.

He then blew out the rest onto America and Prussia, making both of them go blind and for a minute, Peter's eyes widened in fear as he saw Hook charge the other two. But the next minute, all four nations had shrunk to the size of fairies and where floating in the air just like the ship. Not exactly flying but more like letting the wind blow them away.

"What the hell is that?" Alfred panicked as he couldn't stabilise himself and kept spinning in mid-air.

"That's awesome! I'm flying!" Prussia cheered already mastering the winds while Feliciano was helping America stop spinning.

"L-let's leave!" Sealand called as he was already heading for the exit of the room.

"BOY! HOW DARE YOU STEAL FROM ME?! I'M GOING TO HUNT YOU DOWN AND YOU WILL BEG ME TO KILL YOU ONCE I'M DONE!"

"Kesese! Well done Pete! Looks like you know more about magic than we thought!"

Peter blushed at the compliment, his ocean blue eyes watching fearfully at the angry pirate stuck on his ship. Without the fairies, Hook cannot chase them or even leave this room. Those lessons with Arthur hadn't been a total waste after all.

"Yeah, Arthur taught me …"

"Really? How come he never taught me cool stuff like that?" Alfred started to pout.

"Ve … but I thought magic didn't exist."

Feliciano's statement hung in the air like a sudden realisation. Yes, Arthur had taught Peter the knowledge of magic but the kid had never actually believed in it. Yes, Gilbert had been told tales by his friend Arthur but he never thought them to be more than stories. Yes, Alfred had heard Arthur talk about one of his friend being a pirate called Hook but he always thought him to be imaginary.

They didn't believe in magic. That's a fact. So who is messing with their heads now?

"Let's get out of here." Prussia ordered, postponing any further questioning.


	9. Scattered nations in Wonderland

**Chapter 7: Scattered nations in wonderland**

**Prussia's point of view just before he fell into Jones' Room …**

When Prussia woke up, he realised he was alone and laying on what awfully looked like a torturing table in one of those old dungeons from the Dark Ages. And he did not like the bats perched on the ceiling above his head and staring down at him with glowing blue eyes. On the positive side, nobody was around and especially not a torturer, and his hands and legs weren't shackled to the table. Gilbert didn't waste anytime in getting off the table and running out of the torture room. He passed many torture items and some he didn't even want to know how the hell they worked! Running up stone stairs, he freaked out a little when he saw floating candles appear and light up his path as he advanced.

Ignoring the voice in his head telling him that all this seemed impossible, unreal and seriously disturbing, Prussia emerged in a large corridor filled with lined up armours and paintings covering the walls. All was quiet and that, in the Prussian's mind, is never a good sign. He cautiously took a few steps, ignoring the cold shivers her felt every time he walked past a metal armour, his red eyes warily watching the paintings. You know about this optic effect that makes you feel like you're being watched by a painting? Well, Prussia had a hard time convincing himself that it _was_ really _just_ an optic illusion!

A soft giggle.

Gilbert froze, listening carefully. But all was quiet once more. Shrugging it off as his imagination, the albino walked on. This looks like an old fort or castle from the Middle Ages. Prussia could recognise various architectural styles and of various time-lines in the frescos and columns, the arches and the decoration, the type of stone used and it all seemed like this entire castle had been built from scratches of various times. No. More like, someone has been constantly modifying the very structure of the place, its aspect, and added to it with every knew time period, introducing a new style to the old stone fort. Prussia hated to say, but this place looked awesome! Freaky, mind-creepy, but fucking awesome!

Until the red carpet under his feet started to chew his leg.

Prussia yelped in surprise and promptly freed himself only to get his other leg trapped. He started to run, but how was running away from the very carpet you are standing on, really going to help? To answer that: It didn't. He might have just stood there, it would have been the same. The last thing Gilbert saw as he was devoured by the red material, sinking into the ground, was the paintings move and chitchat excitedly to each other while watching him with wide grins. Guess it wasn't an illusion after all. And now, the awesome him is going to die in some freaky castle in the middle of god knows where, eaten by a fucking carpet.

_So not awesome!_

That was the last thought that crossed the proud Prussian's mind before he fell through a door.

* * *

**Elsewhere …**

"It's your fault, aru!"

"My fault? How is it my fault?!"

"Your daughter caused this! I'm sure of it!"

"My daughter has nothing to do with this! If anything, I blame your son!"

"… Actually, it's that stupid … what's his name's fault!"

"Si! You're right for once! Where is he anyway? I'm going to chop his head off … as soon as I get my axe back!"

Canada never felt more grateful than now about his invisibility. He did not want to have to face an angry China and a furious Spain. Luckily, they couldn't do much, per say. All three had woken up to find themselves hung upside down from ropes that seem to be tied to the Heavens themselves … you could try to see how far high it goes but Matthew had a feeling he did not want to see to _what_ the rope was tied to … _if_ it was tied to something! All the way up he saw a purple sky with orange clouds. And down below … that's probably why Matthew was glad they had a rope!

"So what now?" Spain muttered darkly. It seemed he and China had both temporarily agreed to a silent truce and the caused of it was Canada. Oh, he did not want to be noticed and made himself as invisible as possible. China huffed, glaring through his long raven hair that fell on his face at the pit below them.

"How should I know?"

"Well, you're an expert in those kind of creatures, aren't you?" Antonio hissed, his olive eyes locked on his axe that was planted into the wood of a door at the bottom of the pit.

"In my home, they are civilised! Here, we just plain stupid beasts! With a liking to gold, as I see. You're sure they're not from your place?"

"If they did, I would have cut them all down by now!"

"I'm just saying, this looks like Spanish gold." Yao allowed himself a smirk and was delighted to see the Spaniard growl angrily.

"I got most of my gold stolen away, I'll have you know!"

"I know. Arthur told me."

"What did he tell _you_?!"

"Lots."

"… Strange, because he _never_ told me about you! Never even mentioned your name~!" Antonio smirked back, knowing he had just hit a nerve if China's golden glare was anything to go by.

Canada was never a really religious nation but he was fervently praying for their survival. His violet eyes widened in fear as he saw one of the humongous beasts below move. Large scaly head looked up and golden eyes finally took notice of the three nations tied up all nicely like waiting meat. The three men started to fear for their lives as they saw more and more golden eyes lock on them and toothy grins stretch on the giant lizards' face.

"I feel dizzy. The blood is getting to my head." Antonio moaned, closing his eyes and wishing he could get eaten the right way round rather than in such a position.

"We're about to get eaten alive, and that's what you're complaining about?" Yao's own eyes widened in shock at the other. Antonio shrugged in response.

"If I'm going to die anyway, I'd like to not have a headache."

"We're not going to die!" China growled but mostly to convince himself.

"Oh, do explain how you're going to get us out of here! Up till now your wisdom has not been very helpful!"

"Well, it's not exactly a common situation to come across being tied upside down above a pit full of man-eating dragons!"

"Yeah, but your boss is a dragon, right? So why don't you speak dragon to them and convince them to let us go?"

"I don't speak fucking dragon! There is no dragon language! My boss speaks Chinese!"

"Well what do you think _they_ speak?"

"I don't know! Why don't you try Spanish!"

"I did. Didn't work."

"Well help me find something else!"

"I can't do anything upside down, with my hands tied and my axe down in that pit!"

"You're useless!"

"I'm useless? What about you? I don't have a dragon as a boss!"

"It's obviously your gold they keep!"

Canada shut his eyes, glad to see that the five dragons were happy enough to observe the two nations' argument … for now. The amount of gold the beasts rested on was like nothing Matthew had ever seen before. One of the giant lizards, a crimson red one, stretched his large wings and yawned loudly before flying off into the odd purple sky. First off, how can there be a sky in the room? Is this even a room? The only thing that lets it think so is the small door at the bottom of the pit guarded by a large black dragon … and he was now playing with Antonio's axe. Good Lord, how are they going to get out of here?

"I hope the others are alright." Matthew sighed.

* * *

**Elsewhere …**

The tall Russian skipped peacefully down the quiet corridors. He liked that place. It felt so full of life and secrets! And Russia loves secrets! He also found the greeting party here very entertaining. After all, waking up in a library full of flying rabbit was quite amusing.

Until Ivan got thrown out for scaring the rabbits away. And what's more, the person ... thing that threw him out was a tiny little man smoking a pipe, dressed in a emerald green and raven black tuxedo, and wearing a tall ... way too tall top hat on his small head and over crazy bright ginger curls. He had ears long and sharp and that reminded the russian of the ears of a bat, pointy shoes, a thick ginger beard and a surprisingly deep voice. Russia had found him amusing and although he didn't understand a word the little man had spoken, the angry tone said it all. Russia might have pissed off the little man even more by pocking at his hat. I mean the man is so small he only reaches down to Russia's knees, his hat on the other hand made the man gain an extra meter and the top of the hat reached to Russia's shoulder. Amusing little man, da?

But then; how could such a little thing throw out the big and scary Russia? Even Ivan got surprised when all the little man had to do was snap his fingers and the Russian was left standing in front of a shut door. And that is currently why Russia is wandering aimelessly accross the castle without a care in the world. Maybe he'll see more flying rabbit? That would be fun!

Russia frowned slightly as he heard shouts and screams coming from a door nearby. With a large child-like grin, the white haired man turned eager purple eyes towards the large wooden door from which the shouts came from. Pipe in hand, he didn't hesitate a second, and opened the door.

Before closing it shut again. His grin still breaking his face in two, but it had grown cold and empty, eyes wide and Russia stayed froze a few minutes before opening the door again.

And it went shut straight away! Ivan felt his body shake nervously. And this time, his smile was gone, replaced by a frown. Did he see right?

No. He dreamt it. Must have.

"RUSSIA! GET US THE HELL OUT OF THERE!"

The Russian slowly opened the door a third time and blinked in shock. Flying rabbits and tiny people was one thing. But Giant fire-breathing lizards? And was that China and Spain over there?

"What are you playing at?" Russia frowned in confusion at the scene before three large dragons stared at him, eyes gleaming of something Ivan knew would not be good for him.

He didn't have time to close the door.

* * *

**Elsewhere ...**

Kiku slowly awoke and looked around. He didn't recognise his surroundings nor does he remember how he had gotten here. The last of his memories was the vision of a purple cat dragging him inside a mirror. With careful black eyes, the Japanese man scanned the room he had landed in. It … looked like a kitchen. No … maybe an operation room? Ah no … that doesn't look human. Kiku gulped as he wondered around the bright white kitchen-like place. It had a resemblance to a kitchen … if not for the large operating tables and suspicious utensils laying on them. There were a line of colourful fridges, all of a different colour and standing coldly next to the other. Draws and cupboards were scattered here and there and further up the back, a massive chimney that could easily cook and whole elephant if not two. Around the fire place, many ovens were imbedded in the tiled wall. Everything was tiled except the floor, which Kiku found odd and noticed it was covered by a red carpet. Odd for a kitchen. Very odd kitchen. And another thing: There was no food in sight. More than oddly suspicious for a kitchen.

A soft groan interrupted Kiku's inspection and the man turned around, Katana at the ready as he saw a figure rise from the floor. Japan relaxed when he recognised Hong Kong and put his sword away before walking up to the teen.

Leon Wang Kirkland groaned as he woke up. Damn that cat! Next time, he'll ask Arthur if he can cook the thing! Blinking his pitch black eyes open, the Chinese teen noticed he had landed in one of the kitchens, now if he could just figure out which one …

"Hong! How are you feeling?"

Looking up, Leon met the black eyes of his Japanese relative. Oh great. He got stuck with him of all people! And where did the others end up? More to the point, where did Vicky end up? And maybe he should make sure Shifu didn't get eaten or killed yet. Would be great if America got eaten!

None of his internal thoughts showed on Hong Kong's poker face as he simply nodded in response to the older nation's question. Kiku's face was also stoned as ice, not allowing the panic and anxiousness of his mind to be seen. The two emotionless nation didn't speak promptly walked on to look for the exit and search for their lost friends.

And then, knives appeared of nowhere and flew towards the two. Kiku was quick and precise as he guard both himself and the young Chinese against the attack, his own blade slicing any threat away. He was about to put away his katana but was stopped by Hong.

"Keep it. We're not done yet." The teen spoke as he pointed towards the upcoming flying sauce pans.

"What is this place?" Kiku muttered darkly, in position to strike back.

"The kitchen … I'm not sure which one though."

"There's more than one?"

"About a dozen I think."

"And how do we get out?"

"Either dead. Or we charge through the flying utensils and hope they won't set up the fire."

Kiku's poker face cracked slightly and Leon could see the man's disbelieve in the twitching of his eyes.

"And where are we?" Japan asked with a cold glare at the teen who was himself moving into a kung fu battle position.

"… We can talk and die. Or fight and run. Your choice."

* * *

**Elsewhere ...**

"Where the fuck are we?!" Romano asked for the thousand time since he had woken up. True it's not best time to ask, but when else would anybody give him an answer? He was not about to wait until those stone monsters caught him!

"I DON'T KNOW!" Germany yelled for the thousand time, while carrying on his back a still unconscious Gibraltar.

"Let's just run for now, oui?" France sighed in exasperation.

It was quite a good idea. In this place, running is most of the time your best option. _That_, or flying. Oh, that's what the statues are doing. Just perfect!

Germany just had to wake up surrounded by those two and with Gibraltar, the only one who could help them out here, still asleep! Did the gods hate him or something?

"Ludwig! Attention! Little Gibraltar is going to fall off your back! Be careful with the petite demoiselle!" Francis scolded him.

The German huffed and stabilised the girl on his back, running faster to avoid their pursuers. How did it come to this? What is this damn place? And where is England and his fucking magic when you need him?!

Germany's eyes widened in sudden shock and realisation. Did he actually think that? Did he actually think that he needed England and his fucking magic? Magic? He must be really tired and drank too much from Feliciano's coffee yesterday.

"Oi! Potato Bastard! Pervert Bastard! Why don't we go hide in one of those doors?"

"Oui, because the last one did not get us chased around like this!" Francis rolled his eyes. The reason they were currently getting chased around some creepy castle by moving statues and sculptures was because Romano had had the bright idea of checking the various rooms they passed by. In one of them they nearly got killed by a headless knight on a motor bike! Just what the fuck is wrong with this place?! … Wrong question. Is there anything right with this place?!

"Well what else do you suggest we do? Run until we tire out and they catch us?" The Italian snapped back. He was already far ahead of the other two and was barely refraining from just running off on his own and leaving them behind. The reason he didn't was because he didn't want to end up alone in this scary crazy place!

Germany was the last due to the extra weight he had to carry around and was frantically trying to find a way out of this situation. France growled in rage. He didn't want to argue with Romano right now when he was already busy trying to not get killed by moving statues of creepy monsters. One of them looks like a damn hydra! Why the fuck is there a moving sculpture of a hydra chasing them along with other monsters of stone! The gargouilles of Notre Dame suddenly came up to France's mind and he was so grateful that stone statues did not come to life at his place.

"_Turn left on the next cross path."_

Francis heard the familiar voice of a woman in his mind. He recognised that voice. How could he not. But it's not possible … it should not be possible …

"Romano! We're going left!" He shouted nonetheless to the Italian ahead. South Italy frowned back at him but obeyed. Left or right, they're dead anyway.

A dead end.

"Great! Very smart Bastardo! Now what? Any other bright ideas?" Lovino yelled in anger but the fear in his voice made it sound like a panicked scream. Germany frowned, his expression darkening and he was getting ready to face a fight to the death with stone monsters … just what kind of pathetic death are they going to have?! France, on the other hand, was tapping and touching the cold wall blocking their way. He did as he was told … or was it his imagination?

"_Now close your eyes."_

"What?" France asked to the empty space. He earned a questioning frown from the other two but since the voice didn't answer back … what did they have to risk now anyway!

"Close your eyes both of you!" He ordered them and although hesitant, Germany and Romano imitated the Frenchman who had already shut his eyes.

"Why are we doing that, Frank?"

"I don't know but trust me on this one, Ludwig!"

"I can't believe I'm going to die eaten by fucking stone statues!" Lovino whined.

A silver shadow cross from behind the dead end and faced the charging monsters. A blinding light flashed and soon, all fell silent once more. Neither of the three nations dared opening their eyes for a while but when they did, they saw the stone statues … back to being simply stone statues. Not moving. Just normal statues.

"Where the fuck are we?!" Romano asked for the thousand and one time. The other two could only nod as they also whished to know.

In the midst of all the chaos and frustration, Victoria slept peacefully. She was having a nice dream. A memory flashback from long ago.

* * *

_Emerald eyes stared back at her and a beautiful smile greeted her to the world._

"_She looks Spanish." A man's voice spoke._

"_Don't state the obvious." A woman answered with a chuckle before she felt herself getting caught in a warm and loving embrace._

"_She's beautiful."_

"_What are you going to name her?"_

"… _Victoria."_

"_A Latin name?"_

"_It suits her. She is of Latin descent after all."_

"_I think it's a good name." A third voice spoke, a man again, deeper than the other man._

"_She's not a full nation though …" Another fourth voice and again a man._

"_She's our victory. Victoria." The woman whispered softly and she felt warm lips kiss her forehead._

"_You'll have to stay here for a while … at least until you can change back." The first man spoke sadly._

_"I know." The woman's voice on the other hand was bright and delighted._

"_And what about the father?" the third man asked._

"_I'll tell him … eventually."_

"_They'll start wondering about the land's soul if you take too long. Gibraltar cannot remain unknown forever."_

"_She won't be. Stop being such a pest!"_

_"You heard the lady!" the second man chuckled_

"_Just let it be, Pat … The girl's just a kid. We can't let Spain find her in that state, he might want her back and he'll start asking questions." The first spoke again._

"_Let's go guys. Aly, do you want us to stay a few night?"_

"_No, we'll be fine, right Victoria?"_

_Right. Everything … will be fine._

* * *

Victoria blinked her emerald eyes open and noticed she was resting in a large ruby red bed. She recognised her room. Sitting up, she frowned trying to remember what happened until a soft knock interrupted her. She looked up and a wide grin broke her face at the sight of the blond woman in a blue dress.

"You better have a bloody good excuse for this, young lady." the woman frowned, hands on hips and looking cross at the tanned girl. Victoria jumped out of her bed and rushed to hug the other.

"I missed you ... mum!"


	10. Of white and blue, welcome to Scotland

**Chapter 8: Of white and blue, welcome to Scotland**

"Aw man! Why is this powder thing wearing off already?" America whined as he hit the ground head first. He enjoyed flying even though he still had difficulties in not bumping into walls and furniture. Prussia was struggling just as much but he managed to land on his butt when the fairy dust wore off. Feliciano himself was actually pretty good and easily got the hang of flying. It's quite simple really, the more you try to control it, the harder it is. So the carefree Italian simply let the air current guide him around, stirring his body gently. It was a wonderful feeling. As light as a feather, you're in control of nothing and certainly not where your going but in a way, that's the reason why you feel so good. Because you don't need to worry about what you'll do next. You just go with the flow ... And Feliciano has spent his whole life going with the flow. If the flying part went well ... the landing part couldn't have been worse. One minute the Italian was floating in mid-air, carefree and happy, the next, he felt his body suddenly drop and landed flat out on the floor, face crushing against the red fluffy carpet. The three nations groaned in pain as they hit the ground with no warning at all. Sealand was the only one to land safely on his feet. Why? Well, Arthur had taught him the use of fairy dust. That's actually the only thing Sealand remembers enjoying from Arthur's boring magic lessons. Usually the old man would read him old books and teach him all the rules and basics of magic, all the "Don't do this!" and "Do that and you'll die!" and "Don't even think of trying that!" So essentially, the only practice in magic that Sealand got was:

1- How to use fairy powder (along with the flight lessons)

2- How to light a fire

3- How to erase your presence (both magical and normal) just in case Peter ever got into trouble and needed to hide.

If anything, Peter never thought he would ever be grateful to England for having taught him those basics. Now he wished he had paid a bit more attention to Arthur's endless rambling on in their magic lessons. The blond boy looked around warily. This place reaked of danger and insanity and yet ... it felt familiar ... like a distant forgotten memory ... Had he ever come here before? Peter frowned, confused by this strange sense of déjà-vu that he felt. He could swear that he had been in this castle before but could not begin to explain when and how! How did he know this place? Had he come here with England before? And where are they?

Screams.

All four nations jumped and looked around in sudden panic.

"What was that?" Feliciano mumbled in fear.

He did not like this place. It felt like the castle itself was alive and hunting them down. Even the paintings on the walls surrounding them were suspicious. Feliciano as an artist has a keen eyes for art. And that was no illusion effect. Those paintings where watching them, following them, whispering to one another. And from the corner of his eye, Feliciano thought he had seen one of the metal armors lined up in this hall move. He didn't dare utter anything to the others, of fear that he might worry them for no reason. After all, it might be his imagination ... please make it his imagination!

"It sounded like ..."

Screams again. Louder and closer.

"Ve! It's Fratello!" Feliciano felt his heart lighten up as he recognised his brother's voice. He jumped to his feet and started to run towards his brother's screams.

"Italy, wait! It not safe!" Prussia grabbed the excited Italian and forced him to the ground. Suddenly, the Prussian's red eyes narrowed on the carpet. "Oh shit ..."

"Prussia! What's wrong?" America joined them followed by a scared Sealand.

"Don't move! Don't move a single muscle, you hear?!" Gilbert yelled and his panicked voice immediately froze the other two and Feliciano barely allowed himself to breathe, still pinned down by the albino. Prussia NEVER panics. For him to sound this worried, even America didn't dare disobey the older nation's orders. Something felt odd as the seconds passed. America and Sealand wouldn't have felt it but Feliciano who was lying flat out on the carpet felt it shift and shiver slightly, like a dog shaking his fur. It brushed gently against his body and soon the feeling was gone and Prussia let out a relieved breath.

"Gott that was close ... don't run or make any sudden move. We are all going to walk slowly and carefully and when I say freeze, you freeze! Got it?!" Gilbert looked at each of the younger nations with a pointed look that oddly made him look as serious as England. They all nodded.

"D-Dude, what happened?"

"This floor or carpet or whatever is alive. Don't look at me like that, kid, I'm not kidding. That fucking thing nearly swallowed me up if I hadn't managed to escape through that door. Incidently, it allowed me to save all of your unawesome asses. Thank me later. For now, let's just make sure that we don't get eaten by the damn thing. If only that fairy thing had lasted longer ..."

"There was barely enough for us to escape. Fairy dust doesn't last long." Sealand explained calmly but fear was still very present in his ocean blue eyes.

He suddenly held a frightened grip on Prussia's hand and Gilbert's eyes widened at the gesture but he allowed it. He liked kids so, it's okay. The group progressed slowly and carefully towards the screams they had heard. America kept glancing suspiciously around, muttering incomprehensible things about "ghost" and "zombies" in his breath. He must have watched too many horror films and his imagination was now running wild. Prussia kept a straight battle face but even he was scared ... but he's too awesome to show fear or even to admit fear! Sealand kept clinging to Prussia, probably because the older nation's behaviour reminded him of England. And Feliciano was silently trying to catch another sign of his brother, hiding his growing fear and walking so close to Prussia he was like a second shadow to the man.

They arrived at a long snake-shaped staircase that felt like it was begging to snake itself around them and drop them into the dark empty space below. Hesitantly, they walked down the stairs, Prussia keeping a sharp eye out for whenever the carpet would feel like eating them. Suddenly, the staircase vanished under their feet and really did drop them. Screaming, the four nations oddly felt their fall cushioned by the red fluffy carpet. You'd think to be grateful about this. They were not. They saw themselves sinking slowly into the red material, and Prussia was yelling panicked orders to panicked nations screaming in full out panic. If you don't die from falling from the staircase, would you really want to die eaten by the carpet? Tough choice.

Feliciano started screaming and begging, tears falling from his scared widened eyes. He already only saw Sealand's hand left, gripping Prussia like a life line, the said Prusian was waist length stuck into the furry red material and America was attempting a futile fight that only made his sinking even quicker. He clearly had never experienced quick-sands before ... or in this case quick-man-eating-carpets. Then, Feliciano heard clean footsteps resonate in the hall. Sunken deep up to his neck, he couldn't even turn around when he heard a deep cold voice behind them.

"My, what do we have here? Have you all gotten lost down the rabbit hole?"

A white gloved hand and the deep blue ceiling. That's all Feliciano ever saw before he was completely devoured and let his unconscious take over.

* * *

**Elsewhere …**

"It's your fault, aru."

"My fault? How is it my fault?!"

"You shouldn't have called Russia!"

"Oh right! And the giant dinosaurs eat us?"

"We would have figured something out!"

"Like what Oh-Great-Wise-China?"

"L-Let's not fight again ... at least we got out ..."

"Hm? Oh you were there too, da? Who are you?"

"I'm Canada."

"Russia, who are you talking to?"

"Hm? I was talking to someone?"

*sigh* "Nobody ever hears me. I just want to find mister England and everyone and get out of here as soon as possible. And with all that, I lost Kumajiro ..."

Canada watched with exasperation as China and Spain were starting another argument, Russia walking alongside with his usual innocent smile. All four were covered in blood. Not their blood. Oh, they didn't kill the dragons. Not even one. In fact, by the time they escaped the room, the dragons were so mad they were lucky to all still be alive. Russia and his pipe proved to be insanely scary and dangerous. Somehow managing to free them, Russia caused the fury of the giant monsters, fire erupted all over the place and they nearly burned to ashes had Antonio not been able to retrieve his axe and bust the door open while Russia pierced both of the black dragon's eyes with his pipe. Canada was nearly left behind since nobody had remembered him and they all barely escaped alive. Like mice escaping through a mouse hole in the wall. Matthew did not want to try that again anytime soon.

Tightening his grip on his shoulders, the sweet Canadian dearly felt the missing of his bear. England had given him the bear. He had never lost him before that. Because that bear was special, at least in Matthew's eyes. When they were young, America would often make fun of his brother, telling him that they weren't babies anymore and he should be playing with guns rather than bears. Obviously, England did not find this amusing at all, and Alfred never made fun of Matthew's bear after that. But really, you wouldn't expect a grown man (nation) to still carrying around his stuffed teddy bear. But Canada did. Because England gave it to him.

_"It'll keep you company when I'm away, okay? So don't cry. I'll be back soon."_

_"It's just a stuffed bear!"_

_"... Not just a stuffed bear. It's a special stuffed bear."_

_"How special?"_

_"Very special. Now be good and keep an eye on Alfred. Make sure he doesn't get himself into trouble while I'm gone, alright?"_

_"...Yes."_

Canada's mind drifted back to the present when he heard China's scream of panic. Apparently, Russia had wanted to try another room, ignoring Spain and China's attempts to stop him and they all walked into a large freezing food-keeping storage room. Well, that's what they assumed. It looked vaguely like a storage room for meat. But the temperature felt below humanly bearable and even the ice was freezing. Crystals covered the walls and columns of soft blue ice lined on either side of a path way down the room. Food was indeed stored here but ... uh ... no that looked more like animals trapped in ice than food. There's even a mammoth and other weird creatures that Canada did not recognise. Strange fruits were pilled in boxes ... some boxes had a skull imprinted on them and all of them were frozen into the ice walls of the room. It almost felt like all this was just illusions or projections and not actual things trapped in ice. But after the dragons, Canada was sure that the stuff here was real. Dead real.

As real as the growling 3 meters tall polar bear ahead.

Very much real.

And very much hungry ...

* * *

**Elsewhere …**

Romano screamed.

Again.

Well, it really wasn't his fault. What would you do if you came face to face with a freaking flying ... thing!

"I'm not even going to ask." Germany groaned as they all stared at the flying squeaking fairies floating in mid-air in front of the group.

"You know, I think I might believe Arthur when he talks to his imaginary friends." France stated what they were all thinking. Well, except Romano. Romano wasn't thinking anything. His mind had completely blanked out.

_What the fuck?! Fairies?! You are fucking kidding me! Dammit!_

Was about the only thing that crossed his mind. And then, the next thing he saw was the silver figure that appeared out of nowhere. France's eyes widened in recognition but Romano could not himself recognise the figure. She was a woman, and transparent, glowing softly of a gentle white light and ... No fucking way is that a ghost! She smiled and with a hand gesture ... nothing. The next thing you know, Romano woke up in a large living room on a deep blue sofa along with Germany and France fast asleep like he was but Gibraltar was nowhere to be seen. The silver figure was floating not far from then, watching them with laughing blue eyes, a white lily resting at her feet.

"What the fuck?!"

* * *

**Elsewhere ...**

This is the kitchen. Not a battle field at all. No. It really is just a kitchen. They just happened to have interrupted the Mistresses's breakfast making. And that is unacceptable.

Kiku curse (in his mind) as he was suddenly pinned to the ground, his katana sent flying out of his reach. Holding him down were three small people. One woman with short iron-coloured hair tied in a bun, her cold grey eyes glaring at the nation she was straddling, gripping his collar and almost choking the poor Japan. And two men, holding down Japan's body and legs, both brown haired but one lighter coloured than the other and with freckles on his face. Both had dark blue eyes and wore sadistic angry smiles. You could tell they were mad but the smiles just made Kiku shiver in fear. Knives and forks were still flying around, plates were sent crashing on the walls, and fire started to fuse out of the giant chimney burning everything in sight ... and it actually took the shape of a fire monster and reminded japan of one of the fire youkas of his home land. But those are just legends ... aren't they?

Hong Kong was not in any better condition. Knife to his throat and immobilised by a tall man in a chef's outfit except his blind blue eyes and white long hair contrasted with his dark chocolate skin. He would have looked human ... if not for his lower body being one of a white horse. Leon was lifted up from the ground and could only watch as the fire demon took the shape of a hungry wolf, walking out of the chimney and towards the immobilised Japan.

"Now now, this isn't a way to treat guests, now is it?" the rich english voice sing sang softly as it entered the kitchen.

As he was, Kiku could not see the man who had spoken, but he clearly saw the relieve on Hong's face. They were not freed however. In fact, Kiku can only vaguely remember the rise of a discussion between the voice of the man and other voices as his senses started to grow dull.

"Intruders were reported. They interrupted the Lady's breakfast that we were preparing."

"Then let me deal with the intruders and you can go back to your kitchen! Don't forget to put on the kettle, I'm having a tea party!"

"Mad man ..." The deep voice of the Horse man muttered.

"I won't deny it!" The other laughed.

The sweet scent of something infinitely delicious came to tickle Kiku's nose and after that, it all went blurry. He barely saw the face of a man wearing a blue top hat and smiling like he had just found a new toy. White gloved hands reached out and all went black.

* * *

**Elsewhere ...**

Feliciano woke up and was surprise to see that he was still alive. Well, it didn't look like heaven so he assumed he was still alive. If this is heaven then it looks a lot like a living room, pictures on the wall were watching then and chitchatting with one another, pointing the nations' direction occasionally. America was snoring loudly, sprawled out on the red carpeted floor, Sealand was nuzzled to Prussia both asleep on the red couch not far from Feliciano's own spot on the ruby red cushions of the sofa. A small Edwardian table with a fine India cloth held a silver set of fuming tea. Across from the table, a man in white was staring at his golden pocket watch, frowning to himself as if in deep thought. His red eyes were still and not really seeing the watch as he looked lost in whatever troubled his mind. Silver hair combed neatly backwards on his head very much like Germany but longer length and with a few strands falling elegantly on his forehead. He wore an impeccable white suit without a speck of dust on it.

As soon as Feliciano noticed him, the man seemed to have sensed the sudden prying eyes of the Italian on him as he snapped his head up, red eyes staring deep into the chocolate ones of the nation. The man's position was poised and elegant, he looked relaxed and yet ready to spring out of his seat at any minute if necessary. Feliciano didn't know why but he felt scared of that man. He looked too perfect. Even blinding white smile of the man only caused Feliciano's anxiousness to rise. In the far back wall, at the moving light of the nearby fireplace, Feliciano saw the man in white's shadow. It looked huge but that ... must be a light effect, right?

"I see you woke up."

"V-ve ... where are we ...?"

"In Kamaaloth Castle of Carlion, Scotland, Britain, Europe, Earth, the Solar System." The man answered, never losing his smile as he pocketed his watch and picked up the cup of tea set before him.

"W-Where ...? S-Scotland? Ve! That's Arturo's brother!" Feliciano sighed in relief as he recognised the name. The man in white allowed one of his eyebrows to raise ever so slightly but nothing else showed emotion on his face.

"Spanish?"

"Ve? No! Italian!"

The man's face darkened significantly at this but it was so brief that Feliciano thought he had dreamed it. Snapping his fingers, the man caused two sugars to fly out of the sugar bol and the small jug of milk to rise steadily in mid-air as they floated towards Feliciano.

"Sugar? Milk?"

"Ve ... both please."

Feliciano had never tasted tea before. Japan had offered many times but the Italian preferred his coffee. He had no idea what he should put in his tea and simply watched in awe as the two sugar cubes dropped into his tea cup, the spoon followed suite, twirling the pouring milk and giving the tea a light brown colour. Hesitantly, the Italian brought the drink to his lips but before he could taste it, Prussia had knocked his teacup away. The albino's angry red eyes narrowed on the man in white but his controled voice spoke to the confused Italian.

"Don't drink anything that man gives you Italy! It could be poison! He could be trying to kill us!"

"Ve!"

The man chuckled gently. America and Sealand both slowly woke from their slumber after Prussia's ruckus. They looked at the scene with confusion but all reacted at Prussia's glare and they suspiciously looked down the white man. Wiping his mouth with his embroided napkin and setting his cup down, the laughing man crossed his hands and rested them over his crossed legs.

"Kill you? No. That would be boring. Although poison does sound interesting."

While everyone's eyes were focused on the man, only Feliciano noticed the changing form of the man's shadow. It was growing larger and less human by the minute, large pointed ears seemed to grow from the head and the body grew rounder and stronger.

"What are you ...?" Gilbert muttered darkly, slowly rising from his seat. The man still hadn't made any move and just hummed softly.

"I'm the butler and you are late."

"Late?" America frowned in confusion.

"Late, late, you're late. All late. Hurry, hurry, or the lady might not wait." The laughing man started to sing.

"He's crazy! Let's get out of hear!" Prussia yelled but as soon as he spoke those words, Feliciano's eyes widened in fear and he pointed at the wall.

"Ve ...!"

They all looked to see the butler's large shadow suddenly jump out of the wall and towards them, toothy grin and red demonic eyes with long pointed ears.

"RUN!" Gilbert ordered before grabbing Sealand rushing for the door, the other two on his trail ... along with the shadow demon.

"Run, run, don't make her wait. Run, run, or you'll be late." the lone man sang, sipping his tea before once again checking his watch. "Breakfast is running late. Late. Late."

* * *

_"Run! Run! Hurry Feliciano! Run!"_

_He never stopped running. He had always run. Always. Run. Run. Run._

_"And never look back ..." The soft whisper breathed in a painful breath._

_Fire._

_And he ran._

_And ran._

_And ran._

_He never looked back._

_"Run Italia ..."_

_Feliciano felt a hand let him go. He kept running but he was the only one running._

_Alone._

_And he ran faster._

_He never stopped running.  
_

_He ran  
_

_And ran._

_And ran._

_"Don't look back."_

_And ran._

* * *

Feliciano was running far off ahead of the other three nations. He hardly noticed when he walked around a corner, screaming his lungs out, with America and Sealand on his trail, Prussia further behind and even further the bouncing shadow chasing them.

And he ran faster.

And ran.

And ...

Stopped.

Crashed.

Fell.

And then ...

And then ...

"What the bloody hell ...?" a girl's voice so very familiar reached the Italian's ears. Looking up, he met the intense emeralds that always made his heart jump.

Oh.

She's not wearing any top.

The girl stared at Feliciano.

Feliciano stared back.

He felt his face heat up while she frowned in confusion.

She looked around at the other nations, then down at her chest, then back at the nations, and again back at the lacy bra covering her breasts and then her mind seemed to connect the dots.

She screamed.


	11. Tea Party

**Chapter 9: Tea Party**

"What the bloody hell ...?"

She blinked as she met the amber eyes of Feliciano. What the fuck is he doing here? Her gaze drifted and she recognised America and Sealand. All three had collided with her and she now felt the full of their weight on her slender body. Damn! America really needs to manage his diet! She should have a talk with that Obama of his and make him stop Alfred from ingesting those disgusting hamburgers! The guy weights tones!

Further away, she spotted Prussia who's eyes widened at er and then averted themselves, a soft blush covering his face. She frowned in slight confusion. Her emeralds drifted back to the three nations on top of her. All three were staring at her shocked, awed, and blushing like little girls having their first crush. What on earth is their problem? She looks down at herself. Nothing seems wrong. Then back at the nations. What? What's wrong? Back down. She frowns. Something's not right ... ... Oh shite!

Feeling her own face warm up and her eyes widen in realisation. She glares at the nations and screams. Loud and clear so that the whole fucking castle hears her.

And then, she punched every last one of those bastards, knocking them unconscious before she heard the bouncing familiar sound. Picking up Sealand in her arms, she turns around and faces the large demonic shadow. One of the beast's pointy ears shook as if to communicate something. The topless woman smiled.

"Hello there, bunny. You lost your body?"

The thing tapped its foot to the ground and the girl rolled her eyes. Turning around, she walked back to her room, not without shouting one last order.

"Get them all gathered but do not harm them. I'll see to them shortly."

The giant rabbit shaped demon nodded and started to skip away.

"Oh and bunny!"

It stopped, turned to see the cheeky grin of his mistress. Emerald eyes twinkled.

"Breakfast is late."

* * *

**Elsewhere …**

Kiku woke up to find himself seated in a comfortable chair at a round table with two empty chairs waiting on either side of him. And in front, facing him with a teacup in hand, top hat on his dark head, reading glasses tilted on his crunched up nose as he was deep in thought and muttering strange words or maybe even inventing words, with a notepad on the table, pen in hand, was ... William Shakespeare. No really. Kiku remembers Arthur showing him paintings of the guy.

They were in a nice cosy tea room. On the round wooden table was laid a set of fine china and the smell of delicious warm tea floated from the teapot, seducing Kiku's nose and stomach. Afterall, he was starving and hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. The walls were covered in artistic drawings but mostly in words. Big words, small words, some printed and some hand written. Actually, it looked like the man sipping his tea right now had been the one to dribble on the walls whatever came past his mind. Arthur had explained to Kiku that this man, William Shakespeare, is basically the one who invented the modern English language. He alone was the genius to have created the words that are now commonly used as _English_. Kiku had been deeply impressed by this and feels deep respect for this man. There is just one slight problem.

This man is dead.

Well, he's supposed to be dead.

Why is he not dead?

Why is he drinking tea with the personification of Japan?

Why is he wearing a navy blue top hat?

Sipping again, the man hardly noticed Kiku waking up, too engrossed in his writing. Japan's eyes wondered around and he frowned in worry when he did not find Hong Kong. And why are there four more seats at this table. Obviously this man is expecting more people since Kiku noticed not only his own teacup neatly placed before him, but also four others at the awaiting four chairs. The Japanese wanted to ask something. He had so many questions and so many worries. And yet he didn't utter a word. He didn't even dare drink his tea that was slowly cooling down in his cup. He didn't dare interrupt the man's concentration.

Because he was Japanese and that would be very rude.

So he would wait.

...

... ...

Please hurry up, Mister Shakespeare, and let me drink!

* * *

**Elsewhere …**

Romano could do nothing but stare at the silvery figure floating a few feet away. Her long slender fingers marred with cuts and calloused from handling weaponry picked up the white lily at her feet. She was beautiful but her full silver armour over a simple white tunic and white thighs, her braided blond hair, the scars on her arms and even one on her left cheek, the sword hanging from her side ... this woman, Romano could tell was a soldier. A very fierce one too. Yet she smiled so gently at him ... gently but her grin looked amused and curious. Her blue eyes shifted to the sleeping France. She floated gently to him and caressed his face, nostalgia covered her own. Francis stirred, causing her to giggle lightly in a hallow and faded voice. Her transparent figure then moved to Germany whom she seemed eagerly curious about and inspected with that same amused smile. Once she was satisfied, the woman faced back to Romano, placed a finger on her lips as if motioning him to keep silence her passing by, and then she vanished.

"... What the fuck?"

A door opened on the side.

* * *

**Elsewhere ...**

Canada never felt more relieved, surprised or plainly shocked. But he was also unusually _visible_ too. His presence was not be forgotten anytime soon. Not since the giant polar bear was licking his face like a delighted puppy under the shocked faces of the other nations. Even Canada didn't understand what was going on. The happy growls of the bear and the overly affectionate behaviour he showed towards Canada caught everyone off guard. Never was going to attack them. Well, he might have, had Canada not been around. Struggling under the heavy weight of the beast, Matthew could swear the bear felt familiar. This warmth, this clean fur, and those deep brown eyes ... it couldn't be ...

"Kumajiro?"

The bear growled happily at hearing his name hugged Canada even tighter in his large paws. He clearly was Kumajiro ... although the extra-large version. How could Matthew's stuffed bear turn into a real life larger than normal polar bear? It makes no sense! Then again ... ever since they arrived to this place, nothing has made any sense so far. So Canada was more than willing to accept the fact that his bear suddenly came to life. Slight strange anomaly is that the small stuffed Kumajiro can talk (in fact talking and eating maple syrup is about the only thing the bear does) but this large version of Kumajiro can only growl like real bears although he looks more alive and loyal than he used to be in his other form.

"Aiya! Canadia! Is that thing yours?"

"It's Canada ..." Matthew sighed but was surprised at the bear sudden angry growl towards China who backed away and hid behind Russia. Kumajiro was unusually fierce and protective of his master. Matthew softly patted the bear's head, calming it down and smiled. He never expected that. Sure Kumajiro is special. But Canada assumed Arthur meant that the bear toy could talk back and had a mind of its own. He didn't think it meant that the thing could turn into a real bear and defend him. But knowing Arthur, it's not surprising he would give such a bear to sweet gentle Canada.

"It's ok Kumajiro. They're friends."

"That's a big bear, da? Is it yours?"

"It's ... I think so."

"You think? You're not sure?" Antonio frowned in confusion, his axle at the ready just in case.

"Well, Kumajiro is the stuffed polar bear Mister England gave to me when I was young. But for some reason ... he grew into this. I was worried I had lost him."

"Arthur really has no notion of safety, aru! You don't give a giant polar bear to a child!" China huffed with a scowl. "I remember when he tried to teach Leon how to shoot."

"Si, I agree. Once he took Victoria to sea when she looked only 6 to show her sea-monsters! And when she looked 10 he let her go and catch one on her own! He had to go and save her eventually but how could he let her get into this kind of danger!" Antonio growled darkly.

"I know, right? And once, he let his insane brothers teach Leon self-defense ... or at least that's what he said! A week later, the boy came back covered in burn marks! What I don't get is why he was smiling. Leon never smiles."

"You think that's bad? Victoria actually _thanked_ me when I let her borrow my axle. She said she wanted to learn how to use one and that she would go and practice with the British isles! She came back in a mess and my axle in pieces! And Arturo refuses to tell me what happened!"

"Same here! He always keeps things like that to himself!"

"Si! Si! He does!"

The two fathers stared at each other for an odd minute before realising what they were doing and hurriedly turned away from each other, pouting and an angry flushed face. Both blamed Arthur in their mind for this awkward moment of bonding. Russia followed the strange exchange with fascination and once it was over pipped out happily.

"That sounds very fun, da! But is it normal for a lady to be floating in mid-air?"

"Uh?" All three other nations stared at the Russian with confused frowns. Ivan pointed at the floating silver figure ahead.

"She's a pretty lady, da? But she looks strange, don't you think?"

"Mi Dio ...!" Antonio's jaw fell and his eyes widened. The other three didn't understand his panic but the woman smirked in recognition at the Spaniard.

"Well well ... long time no see, Spaniard!"

She wasn't tall but nor was she small. Her hair was fiery red and falling down to her waist in a fire cascade, her iron eyes twinkled of pride and confidence, and her body was more than pleasant to the eye as she wore an elegant dress from the 16 century themed red and gold and royal ornaments. She was graceful and her skin fair and clean like porcelain, but you could see the wisdom and sharp mind behind her pretty face. A feel of power and confidence emanated from her that made even the fiercest of warrior think twice before anger this woman.

"Now then, if it were up to me, you'd all get a memory blank and be locked in the dungeon for at least 20 years. But since she said to not harm you ... how about some tea?" She smirked and motioned towards an empty wall where suddenly a door appeared. They all looked back at the silver figure but she had vanished. Only Spain kept staring like he had seen death itself.

"La reina virgen ..." He muttered in disbelief.

* * *

**Elsewhere ...**

Shakespeare looked up, a satisfied smile on his face as he finished his latest poem, and his dark eyes met the equally dark ones of Kiku. He glanced at the untouched tea in front of the Japanese and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"There is no need for such suspicion. You are guests here. Or are you simply being polite? Either way, drink up! Drink up! It'll get cold otherwise."

Kiku nodded shyly and took a sip of his tea. He sighed in relief as the warm liquid calmed him down. After all the emotion that he had been through, he was glad he could get a brief instant to relax. The man in top hat started to drum his fingers on the table, staring into space with a slight frown.

"Late. Their late. My, the young mistress will not wait. They really should hurry."

"... Um ... Pardon me ..."

"Um? Oh yes! More tea?"

Without awaiting for an answer, the hatter had already poured another cup full of tea for Kiku who politely took another sip.

"I-I was wondering ... are you perhaps ... William Shakespeare?"

"Why yes I am! I'm so glad my work is known even outside of Britain!"

"Hai! You're work is amazing! I especially love your plays! Romeo and Juliette as well as Hamlet!"

"Why Thank you sir Japan!"

"How do you know ...?"

"We were told nations had broke into our home. And you correspond to England's description of Japan the last time he told me about you. He thinks highly of you, you know! One of his best friend!" The Shakespearean smirked as he saw his guest blush under the compliment.

"I-I think as much of Asa-san ... I mean, Arthur-san!" Kiku tried to ignore the happy feeling he felt that made his body so light. He always appreciated compliments but he was surprised and pleased to hear Arthur talk about him to someone like William Shakespeare!

But ...

"B-But if I may inquire ... aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"Dead? Well, it's true people believe me dead."

"Aren't you?"

"Am I?"

"Hai?"

"I don't know! Maybe I am! Maybe I'm not!"

"... Hai?"

"To be or not to be! That essentially is the question, isn't it? After all, I may be dead but at the same time, maybe I'm not! Have you ever heard of Schrödinger's cat?"

"N-No ..."

"Picture a sealed box. You know that there's a cat in it. Would you care for more tea?"

"Uh? Oh yes, thank you ..." Japan didn't have time to finish speaking that he cup was already refilled.

"Now you know, I believe England mentioned a nation who likes cats a lot ... what was his name again ..."

"That would be Greece-san. Um, Mister Shakespeare? What about the cat in the box?"

"What box? My, they really are late. Let's refill their cups with warm tea."

"Eh? B-but their cups are already full ..." Kiku's eyes widened when he saw all the empty cups. He was sure they were full a minute ago. William hummed as he poured more tea.

"Now the cat is either dead. Or alive. It all depends on your perception. As long as the box is sealed you can be sure that the cat is in both states at the same time!"

"W-what?"

"The cat is dead? Alive? Or both?"

"Uh ... wouldn't it be easier to simply open the box?"

"Tss tss! That beats the purpose of our question! It's just an example to illustrate my point! I am the cat! You see me now! Am I dead?"

"No?"

"Then am I alive?"

"Yes?"

"Or both?"

"Hai?"

The man let out a loud crazy laugh at Kiku's confused expression. He never understood England-san's humour in the first place, but this man is really not making things any easier.

A door appeared on the side but it remained closed.

"Oh! Looks like our guests will be arriving soon! Wonderful! More tea!"

"But the cups ..."

"Did you say something, sir Japan?"

"No nothing." Kiku shook his head. The cups that were full a second ago were once again empty.

"I am! You are! We are! Crazy! Crazy! We are all crazy here! Like a cat in a box!" Mister William Shakespeare sing sang joyfully while pouring tea in the empty cups.

* * *

Leon followed the white butler down the grand halls of the castle. He still remembered every corner and turns of this place. No. It's not that he remembered. The castle itself was moving to fit his memory. The Cantonese man smiled as he rembered his past life in these walls. It was short but such an unforgettable moment ...

_Young 5 years old Leon Kirkland ran down the corridors. He was playing hide and seek with his older Spanish sister. And he was hiding. It's much easier to hide around here than to find. Knocking on one door, he gingerly opened it and peered inside. Hm ... wrong room. He closed it, his face stern and straight but it soon broke into a wide excited smile as he rushed to the next door. Believe it or not, Hong Kong used to be a very cheerful child and always had a smile on his face._

_"I'm coming to get you!" Victoria's voice chimed in the halls._

_He rushed down the stairs, unable to stop the giggle that escaped his mouth. The stairs vanished but the boy never stopped running. It didn't matter if he was walking down empty space. In fact, it was quite normal around here. And Leon had never lived in any other house so how could he know that this is not common thing? Oh, sure he had been outside. Last fall, Scotland had taken them all hiking in his Highlands and it ended in a disaster. In fact most of the Kirklands' trips end in disasters. But that always made little Hong Kong laugh._

_He stopped as he past the silent blue door. He could see the crystal lock. It was an odd door. It didn't move around. It didn't talk. It didn't try to lock you up. It was a very odd door. But he ignored it. Such a boring door! Who would be interested?_

_He past the two guardian statues and hid behind one of them. And he waited._

_Footsteps._

_Growing closer._

_Suddenly, Leon felt he was grabbed from behind. He yelped in surprise and met curious emeralds and familiar long blond hair._

_"Leon? What on earth are you doing?" the woman questioned, curiosity shining in her ever-green orbs. The boy laughed._

_"I'm hiding!"_

_"From what, love?"_

_"Victoria!"  
_

_"Oh, I see. Then I suggest you hide in the closet under the stairs. She'll never find you there!" Alice smirked with a secretive expression before letting go of her son. The boy followed her advice and slipped in the closet._

_"Okay! Promise you won't tell her!"_

_"I promise! My mouth is sealed!"_

Chuckling to himself, Leon ignored the curious glances of the butler.

"Is there something wrong, Master Leon?"

"Nothing, bunny."

The man in white nodded and then moved aside, leaving Leon to face a familiar door. The 17 year old looking nation smiled (please remember it is not a normal thing for Hong Kong to smile) and didn't hesitate to walk in. His smile grew and China would probably think his son is sick if he had seen the illuminated expression of Hong Kong as he met the sharp familiar emeralds.

"Boy, you have some explaining to do." The woman spoke with a scowl but the twinkle of amusement in her emeralds showed that she wasn't as mad as she let it think. Smoothing her new blue dress, she leaned back on her large wooden chair ornamented of gold and red leather. Her legs and arms crossed, she let a smirk greet the Chinese man. Leon shrugged, his smile never fading.

"We chased a white rabbit and got lost." he answered and enjoyed hearing the chiming laugh of the blond woman.

* * *

Feliciano wimped as he held his head. He could feel the bump left by that woman when she hit him. Glancing upwards, he noticed everyone was awake and Sealand was missing. They were in an empty room, quite cosy and pleasant, with only one exit. America was trying to force the door open but his with all his strength he couldn't even make it budge one millimetre. Prussia was just cursing while trying to find another way out.

"Ve ... what happened?"

"Like hell I know! We just woke up in this place and this fucking door is ... uh? It unlocked?" Alfred suddenly fell backwards as the door fully opened. Prussia rushed to the door and looked outside. Feliciano saw his face turn from suspicion to utter disbelief.

"What the fuck?" The albino mouthed, too shocked to even speak.

Feliciano and Alfred joined him and both were startled by what they saw.

A brown haired man with his long curls tied backwards with a blue ribbon and wearing a navy blue top hat, glasses tilted on his nose in front of amused dark eyes, and wearing a deep blue suit and oddly bright red neck-bow was seated comfortably in a chair, tea cup in hand, waving a pen in the other as he seemed to have been interrupted in a grand and eloquial speech. At either side of the man, two silvery transparent women floated in their seats, their tea cup drifting through their fingers yet they somehow still managed to drink the tea. And finally, completing the round table was ... all their missing nation friends ... aside from Hong Kong, Gibraltar and Sealand.

"Ah! Looks like we'll need more chairs and tea!" The hatter spoke with a rich English and motioned with his pen. Three chairs appeared out of thin air, the table grew larger and three tea cups of fuming tea came to add themselves to the impressive collection on the table.

"Would you care to join our little tea party?" the man smirked behind his half-moon glasses.

...

"Ve ... Do you have coffee?"


	12. Call me Alice

**Chapter 10: Call me Alice**

"Really, if it were me, I would have let the damn things eat them!" the red ghost huffed.

"But, Lizzie, I can't let my country die at the hands of stone gargoyles!" the ghost in white chuckled back softly.

"Who cares! You're dead anyway! You have no more obligation towards that Perverted Frenchman!"

"Please refrain from insulting my country." The white woman's smile grew cold and threatening but she still sipped her tea as if nothing was wrong.

"Or else what?" The red queen challenged with a smirk.

The two woman glared at each other under the thick tension of around the table, until William Shakespeare stopped his own muttering and lifted his eyes up from his notes.

"What's wrong? Why is everyone wearing such a serious face? Oh! You don't have anymore tea, is that it? No problem! I'll order more cakes too!"

Instantly he poured everyone more tea. That was the 20th time in just 10 minutes. His dark eyes then noticed the glaring argument between the two female ghosts.

"Now now, ladies! Let's not behave in such ways in front of our guests! Jeanne, would you be so kind as to pass me the sugar, please?"

The white ghost brushed her hand against the sugar bowl and it instantly floated away towards the hatter.

"Thank you, dearest. Elisabeth, could I request for the milk?"

The red ghost, still not breaking her glare-to-death contest with Jeanne, brushed her own transparent hand against the small jug of milk that floated unsteadily and threatening to spill yet somehow it managed not to and reached safely the cup of Shakespeare where it poured itself into the tea.

"Cheers, love. Now, everyone, drink up!"

And so they did. The whole situation felt unreal ... maybe it's a dream? Or a nightmare? Or both? Kiku didn't dare ask for fear of getting the Writer into another one of his philosophical talk. But he couldn't stop Feliciano's innocent curiosity.

"Ve ... who are you and where are we? And what's going on? And who was that butler in white? And the scary shadow? And the woman with blond hair? And ..."

"That's a lot of questions!" William smiled in delight. He liked curious people. "Sadly I cannot answer them all yet, we are still waiting for someone. I can, however introduce us, though some may know or have heard of us already. I am William Shakespeare! The one and only! The charming lady on my right is Queen Elisabeth the First of England. And the equally charming lady on my left is the famous French maiden Jeanne d'Arc. Ladies, please behave."

"I don't see why I should accommodate myself to these trespassers." Elisabeth huffed.

"Would it kill you to act a little less arrogant, _your majesty_?" Jeanne rolled her eyes.

"Look who's talking! You're just enjoying having France around! I'm stuck with the goddamn Spaniard! At least if Portugal was there I wouldn't complain. He's a nice bloke, unlike this idiot!"

"Well, actually I was curious about those Germans that seemed to have been troublesome for my France recently. But this one looks cute, don't you think?" She pointed towards Germany who immediately blushed while France face-palmed. Elisabeth looked him down and Ludwig felt the judging stare of the ex-queen ... god he felt so weak and tiny in front of her iron gaze.

"Not my type. But I can see why you'd like him."

"Well, what can I say, he's hot!" Jeanne giggled. "His brother's not bad either!"

"I hate to say, but I still think the Spaniard's better looking."

"That's mean! I know you hate Spain so that's really insulting!"

"Actually, here, I was complimenting the bastard." Spain felt his cheeks flush at the crude comments of the girls. "But really ... why did England ever fall for that man ... Get this straight, Spaniard! I won't allow you to make my England sad again! Understood?"

"Now, now, you're scaring the poor kid. Oh, the Austrian's not here? Aw ... he was cute too."

"Do you have a thing for Germans?"

"I never thought of that. Maybe I do. What about you? Which one of those cuties do you think worthy?"

"... ... Their all crap and unworthy of England."

"No silly! I meant if you had to choose one for yourself."

"Same answer."

The nations all felt a heavy weight drop on them as Elisabeth's words slashed through them. She was not known as the Virgin Queen for nothing. She really thought highly of her nation and herself. Because she thought highly of England, she judged down any suitors that came up. None of them were worth England. And Because she was England's Queen, she would not allow herself to be bound to anybody. He would have to be goddamn special for her to surrender her English pride. And really, in her opinion, Arthur was much hotter than any of those idiots.

"Actually, I'd go out with Arthur." She smirked slyly to Jeanne who simply laughed.

"I see! Hm mm ... Well, he is good-looking ... if he weren't my enemy back then, I might have had considered him ... Oh, but his brothers are sweet too! Especially the red haired Scotland! Honestly, François! Why on earth did you break up with him?"

Francis couldn't begin to answer and simply stared at his back-from-the-dead saint. She was scolding him like a child. She always did that and apparently still does.

"I think I prefer Ireland." Elisabeth pointed out lazily.

"... North?"

"I said Ireland. Obviously the South!"

"Oh là là, calme toi! I was just making sure. Yeah he's alright ... if you like ginger. But I guess you would."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, just that you're ginger too so ..."

"Doesn't mean anything. I like Ireland over Scotland because Scotland went with the Frog Bastard."

"I want to kill the guy who first came up with that insult." Jeanne muttered darkly. "You're just jealous because Scottie chose us over you!"

"And what's the United Kingdom for then?"

"That's recent! Besides, you noticed Ireland left!"

The two started glaring once again until suddenly both had their expression lighten in realization as they exclaimed in sync.

"Wales! He's perfect!"

"I said it first!"

"I don't think so, Queenie!"

The ghosts started bickering once more but by that time all the nations had lost track of the initial topic of conversation. Shakespeare sighed in satisfaction as he reread the first act of the new play he was writing. He looked up to see the girls bickering and the nations staring in confusion.

"More tea?"

* * *

**A few minutes earlier, elsewhere …**

Sealand groaned as he groggily woke up. He could here people talking in the room next door but the voices were muffled by the walls. Looking around, he didn't recognise the room, nor could he recall how on earth he had landed here. The last thing he remembered was being chased around by some creepy shadow giant rabbit and then ... he bumped into someone ... and then ... ... black out.

Growling at his feet made Peter jump and his eyes widened at the sight. There, at the foot of his bed, a real life lion laid lazily. And not any normal lion. This lion was larger than a normal lion, probably could easily carry two full grown men on his back while running a full speed. Of a pure gold colour and a crowned with a generous mane, it's emerald eyes narrowed on the boy and he let out a soft growl. Immediately the talking next door ended and Sealand heard footsteps grow nearer. A woman wearing a blue dress, with short blond hair and intense green eyes walked in followed by Victoria and Leon. She smiled at her ...pet? The lion stretched itself and walked out of the room, as if his purpose here was done. The woman turned to frightened and shocked blond boy on the bed. She sat down next to him and stared straight into his ocean blue eyes.

"Peter ... you should never have come here. But since you did, I'm going to have to ask you to keep everything you hear or see here a secret to the rest of the world. Do you understand?"

"W-what? W-who are you? W-where's England?"

The woman watched him dubiously for a while then shook her head slightly.

"Peter, what is England to you?"

"Uh?"

"What is he? A father? A brother?"

"A jerk."

Victoria face-palmed while Leon kept a straight face hiding his inward smirk of amusement. The blond woman chuckled causing Peter to stare at her in confusion. Strangely enough, he felt this person was familiar. This whole place felt familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it ...

"Alright, let's go with that. Then, the British Isles? What are they? Family? Friends? Cousins? Strangers?"

"Jerk England's siblings."

Again, but this time, the girl fully laughed out loud as she could hold back her hilarity. Oh! This was rich! She would definitely have to tell Al about this! Sealand watched her, getting more and more confused by the minute. But ... he liked the sound of her voice. It felt comforting and familiar. Warm and protective. He didn't fully understand but a feeling of belonging grew more and more in his being. This woman ... he felt drawn to her but why? He had never felt like that before? He doesn't feel drawn to people ... well, maybe a bit to the Jerk but isn't that because England always tries to push him away? Or is more?

"Okay, love, what about Sweden and Finland?" She finally asked as her laughter calmed down.

At this question, the boy tensed and the woman immediately frowned in confusion and worry. Peter's lips pursed themselves as he hesitated to speak. He was suddenly reminded as to why he had wanted to see England in the first place. Damn it! That Jerk is never there when you need him!

"Peter? Is something the matter?" genuine concern painted on the blond woman's face, Peter noticed, after looking at her carefully, that she somehow ... looked a lot like England.

"Where's England?"

"Peter?"

"Where is my jerk of a dad?!"

The girl's eyes widened a little and she couldn't stop the soft smile on her lips.

"You're dad, uh? But wouldn't that be Sweden?"

"He's ... my tutor. Him and Finland. I love them both very much but I don't have any links to them. Where is he? Where's England?! I need to talk to him, damn it! Why is he never there when I need him?! Why does he always ignore me? I don't understand? What did I do to make him hate me and send me off to Sweden? And why can't he show up and help the one time I need him?! Stupid Jerk!" tears streaked down Sealand's face as the woman calmly listened to him, not allowing any emotion to cross her own face.

Gently, she wiped out to rolling tears and embraced the boy. Peter couldn't but fall into tears on her shoulder as he hugged her tighter. He felt safe, he felt wanted, he felt protected, he felt loved ... and he didn't understand why this felt so familiar. After letting the boy cry his pain away, the woman finally answered him back.

"What do you need England for?"

"... Sweden and Finland have been arguing more and more recently ... Denmark and Norway said it was nothing but the more I wait, the worse things get! I hate it! And nobody can tell me what to do! I thought ... England ... he could ... I don't know! I don't know what he could do but I didn't know who to ask for help!" Peter felt his tears threatening to return.

"Shhh ... it's alright, love. It's okay ... everything will be okay ..."

"... Where is he?"

"England? He's ... in a secret."

The boy looked up, blinking confused blue eyes as he met the deep emeralds. The exact same emeralds as England.

"I don't understand."

"Peter ... I have one more question before I can tell you anything. Do you remember this place?"

* * *

**Back to the present, at the tea party ...**

William put his cup down and suddenly beamed brightly, arranging his hat as he saw a door appear. Everyone's stare narrowed on the door that slowly opened to revel a beautiful blond girl in a blue dress and striped stockings, her golden hair cut so short in a boyish look that somewhat felt familiar ... as did her face and her emerald eyes. The girl's intense gaze hovered over the nervous nations. She was about to speak but someone was quicker.

"Ve! I remember! You're that bella ragazza that I met at the ball in Venezia!" Feliciano's mind finally sparked back the memory of that mask blond beauty in her elegant blue dress. A different dress, and her face was masked, but he is now sure that it's the same person. This only gets confirmed when a soft blush takes over the girl's cheeks and she stares in disbelief at the Italian under the confused looks of other nations.

"You ... remember?" She whispered before shaking her head. "It's no matter. Yes, I am indeed that person. Now, Hatter, get me a chair." she ordered at the poet who promptly materialised a chair out of thin air to greet his lady. Arms and legs crossed, she watched her tea get poured in a magically appearing cup in front of her. Everyone watched her, unsure of whether they should speak or not. Finally, the girl looked up, took a sip of her tea, and spoke in a clear and confident voice.

"I am the Master of this castle. I heard you were looking for someone. If so, then I will let you meet that person ... but only after you beat me at a game." She smirked and somehow, that smirked felt oddly familiar to the nations but none could say why.

"A-A game?" America asked with a confused frown. "Hold it lady! We just came here to find England! And we lost Peter, Hong Kong and Gibraltar ..."

"Oh, they're fine. You'll meet then after your game."

"Wait a minute! Why should we play a game with you? What guaranty do you have for telling the truth?" Romano snarled suspiciously. The woman smiled at him and he felt his heart leap. Cursing himself mentally for feeling this kind of attraction to the mysterious girl, Romano was also very surprised by this feeling. Usually, the only person that can make his heart race like that would be ...

"England?" the girl smiled and Romano's blush suddenly increased. "You want to see England, don't you? I can guaranty that you will if you play my game. But then again, you are quite right. I may be lying. And so? Would you rather struggle your way out of this place on your own? I'm sure you've already realised what your situation is. Can you survive without my help?"

The nations all pondered on the woman's words. They hated to admit it but, she was right. They all felt trapped and unable to escape the insanity of this place. Sipping her tea, the girl listened to the two ghosts back to arguing again. Suddenly, China stood up, suspicious golden eyes glaring at the girl.

"Who are you? A nation? I haven't heard of you before and I know every nation past or present on this earth."

The girl watched him, a flicker of sadness crossed her eyes but it was gone before China could question it. She closed her eyes and smiled nostalgically.

"A name, uh? Well ... I go by many names ... some of which are to be kept secret. But I guess ... you could call me ... Alice. Alice Kirkland."

"Kirkland? Are you related to Arthur?" Matthew suddenly asked and his shocked voice out of nowhere caught everyone's attention. Unusually enough, he was gaining more and more presence in this place but he didn't understand why. Alice smiled softly at him.

"You could say that. We are very close. Closer than you can imagine."

With those words, Alice had no idea the kind of fury she had lighten up and some of the nations' hearts. But even if she had known, she would have simply laughed it off. Her teasing emeralds watched the nations' reactions carefully and fully enjoying it as she continued speaking.

"As for whether I am a nation or not. The answer would be ... both."

Prussia frowned and a sudden understand washed over his face while the others were staring in confusion.

"You mean, you were a nation but you died. And despite that, you still live on this earth?" The albino hesitantly asked, hope in his voice as he was almost eager to meet someone in the same position as him. But disappointment came as he saw her shake her head with a sad expression.

"No. I am a nation now in the present. And yet, I am not."

"To be or not to be!" William chuckled as he turned back to his writing. Alice smiled indulgently at him.

"I don't get it! How can someone change from nation to not?" America pouted, glaring as he awaited for someone to explain everything to him. A ghostly teasing smile curled Alice's lips and she spoke in a sudden deep and wise voice.

**"Be what you would seem to be, or if you'd like it put more simply: Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise."**

"Ve ... I'm confused." Feliciano frowned but he couldn't help this feeling of fascination as he looked at Alice. And why did his heart pound like so? Like when he faces Arthur? They do look a lot alike ...

She laughed. Her crystal voice resonating in the room like the chime of a bell. Once she calmed down, her expression looked crazy and her eyes gleaming of curiosity.

"I don't expect you to understand. There is nothing to understand! It just is! Or it isn't! And that's all there is to understand! Now, are you in? Or are you out? Game or no game? It's a simple choice, but can you handle it?"

"Of course! If that's the way to get out of here and find England, then yes!" America spoke for the other, not giving anyone a chance to refuse the deal. The girl's smile grew and dangerous delight painted her face. This wasn't any deal. It almost felt as thought they had fallen in a trap, and Alice would be toying with them.

"Brave or simply stupid? Whichever, you now have agreed to play. Win one game against me, and I'll set you all free. Lose, and you'll be trapped here. My only wonder is ... How long will your sanity last?"

* * *

_"Peter! Don't run off on your own! Ah! I told you not to play with the fairy dust!" a woman's voice called._

_The small 4 year old laughed hysterically as he flew down the corridors, glittering from the golden magical powder. He was accompanied by small lights that squeaked excitedly at him. One came up close to him and he recognised the green butterfly wings._

_"Bell! Bell!" He laughed as the fairy smiled and raced with him down the halls of the castle. His race ended when Peter got caught by large strong arms and the sound of a hearten deep laugh of a man._

_"Well, well! Aren't you excited!" emeralds and crimson hair spoke to him._

_"Peter! Oh, Al! Hi! Ah! You found Pete! I've running around the place to find him! Young man, you are in big trouble, you know? Don't think I'll let you off easily even if you play cute! Fairy dust is not a toy!" Alice scolded him but soon sighed as she saw Peter laugh it off and hug her. "Seriously ... what am I going to do with you?" She shook her head and turned to the red hair._

_"Time to leave, kitten." Alistair spoke. She nodded and turned back to little Peter._

_"Peter, sweetheart, it's time to forget. Say goodbye to Tinker Bell and the others. It's time to forget everything ... Close your eyes ..."_

_Peter did as he was told. He never questioned his mother. Never._

_..._

_"Peter?"_

_The 10 year old boy opened his eyes and blinked in confusion. He was sitting in a train on his way to Sweden, next to his father England. Well, Peter considers him as his father but England never told him how exactly they were related. He just said to call him England or Arthur. Concerned emeralds met the drowsy blues of the boy._

_"Are you alright, lad?"_

_"Yeah ... are we there yet?"_

_"Not yet."_

_"... Hey Arthur ... why are you sending me off to them?"_

_Arthur didn't answer. He couldn't answer._

_"You'll be safer there."_

_"Why?"_

_"Trust me on that, will you?"_

_"... ... Ok dad." the boy fell back asleep. He never saw the guilty expression on the man's face nor the sorrow that followed._

"Peter! Oi! Pete!"

Sealand blinked out of his daze and met intense emerald. For a minute he thought he saw Arthur but ... the caramel skin and black curls ... Victoria watched him with concern.

"Victoria ... Do you know how nations are born?"

"Uh? Why are you asking me that all of a sudden?" She blushed slightly and felt uncomfortable. She glanced at Leon who was leaning against a wall not far, watching them but not interfering.

"Arthur ... he's your father, right? But Spain too. So how could you be born? And also ... Who are my parents? I thought Arthur sent me away because he hated me but ... I don't remember him ever wanting to get rid of me ... we just sort of ... grew apart ... but why ...?"

A soft hand patted the blond mop of hair on his head and Peter lifted questioning blue eyes to meet the strangely warm dark ones of Leon. It's rare to Hong Kong show this much emotions.

"How do you think of Arthur?"

"... A jerk ... but I still thought of him as my dad."

"Then that's all you need. The rest doesn't matter does it?"

The boy nodded.

Yeah. It didn't matter all that much. That's just the way it is. Arthur is his dad and that's good enough for him. There's no need for more. But then ... who is his mum?

"Who's Alice?" he asked and saw Leon and Victoria exchange a nervous glance. "I remembered her ... from a memory ... It's weird but ... Have I been here before?"

"Peter ... if we tell you, you will have two options: Either you forget everything like last time. Or you keep the secret." Victoria spoke carefully.

"... Tell me?"

* * *

**Back to the Tea Party ...**

"Alright, so what game are we going to play and what are the rules?" Germany asked with a hard glare. Alice hummed as she thought for a minute then chuckled.

"You tell me! I can play any game. So let's set up the rules like this: you guys pick the game, but we'll play it real-life! The rules of my castle will come to influense the game a little but essentially, it probably will just arrange the setting. Is that satisfactory?"

"What do you mean we play it real-life?" Francis asked with a frown.

"Well obviously this game wouldn't be any fun if we didn't bet our lives! This is how life works after all! Everything is a game! Only the ..."

"Only the winner survives." Feliciano finished Alice's sentence and thus caused everyone to stare at him in surprise, including Alice. She looked away, her golden bangs covering her face for a minute.

"Yeah ..." Her voice was low and empty but she suddenly looked up with her energy back. "Survive my game or die trying! How long will you last?"

The pieces are all into play ...

Now let the game begin.


	13. The Four Aces Battle Game

**Chap 11: The Four Aces Battle Game**

* * *

**AN: Ok … I don't know if this is any good. In fact, I still don't know how my mind came up with such a twist to the story but … Hope you like it?**

* * *

Lucia Vargas yawned as she felt someone forcefully shake her out of bed. Who the fuck dares to wake her up during siesta?! Blinking her deep brown eyes open, she met the identical brown eyes of her sister.

"Dina … What the fuck do you want?!" the Sicilian girls growled darkly, shooting one of her pillows at the Sardinian girl.

"Ve! Sicilia! Don't be mad! I'm just worried! Fratelli haven't come back home yet!"

"So what? The bastards are probably fucking Spain and Germany!"

"Luciiiaaa! Wake up! You're sleep talking nonsense again! Lovi and Feli were gone to this weird conference thing in America and they haven't come back yet!"

"Ok, so they're fucking the American bastardo in a threesome! Send them condoms and it'll be fine!"

"Sorella! Don't be like that! Scusi, I woke you up during your siesta but I'm worried! It's been almost two weeks since they've been gone!"

At that, Sicily reluctantly lifted herself away from her pillow and sat down on the bed, glaring at her sister with her grouchy-I-just-woke-up mood.

"Due settimane? That's a long fuck even for them."

"Sorella! Please stop saying stuff like that! You sound like Francia and Corsica!"

"The Hell's your problem? You've been seeing Vatican again, haven't you? The guy's a bastard, alright? I told you to stay away from the religious freak, si?"

"Scusi, sorella! But what about Fratelli?"

"… Feliciano, I don't care. But Lovino better get his ass back over here and make me pizza or I'm personally going to fucking US of flippin' America and drag him back home! … I'm hungry."

"I'll make you pasta!"

"I said I wanted pizza, Stupida!"

"Ah si! Scusi! I'll do it! In the meantime Sorella, could you put your gun away?"

"What gun?"

"The one under your pillow. It's dangerous! You'll hurt someone!"

"That's the point of a gun, Stupida. Where's my pizza?"

"Ah si!"

Sardinia ran off to the kitchen while Sicily growled and got out of her bed, only wearing her underwear and bra. She took out her gun … guns from under her bed and pillow, and started to look for clothes to wear. She paused as she heard noise from outside her window. Gun charged at the ready, she silently reached to her window ledge and peered out. A man was sleeping outside on the grass next to her tomato plants. The Italian girl narrowed her eyes on the sleeping man and aimed her gun.

"Sorellaaaaaaa! La pizza è presta!"

… Well, the guy's sleeping so killing him can wait. Pizza can't.

"Si! Si! I'm coming!"

"Sorella! Why didn't you put any clothes on? And I told you to put your gun away!"

"There's a creepy guy sleeping next to my tomato crops. I'm killing him after pizza."

"Ve? A creepy guy? Ah si! You mean the one I passed on my way to your house! He's still there?"

"Whatever, Stupida. Pass me the wine!"

"Veee … Don't you think he kind of looks familiar?"

"Do I look like I give a damn?"

"He looks like … uh … I don't know but I've seen him before!"

"Bene, bene, now shut up and let me eat!"

"È buono?"

"Si, si, buono!"

Sicialy patted her sister's head like you would a puppy, causing Sardinia to giggle happily. The two girls ate, forgetting all about their previous discussion and their missing brothers. Well, by the time they remembered, they would probably first have to deal with the sleeping guy in the tomato crops. Assuming Sicily didn't kill him.

* * *

**Back 2 weeks prior, in a castle on the Anglo-Scottish border …**

"Yo Dudette, so what game are we playing?"

She chuckled at America's "Dudette". Oh, he would be so surprised if she told him the truth! Just to see his face, Alice was tempted to tell him.

"Please refrain from butchering my language, Alfred." She spoke with a smirk and a pointed look at the American whose eyes widened in astonishment. Not just America, but they all felt the sensation that this girl was …

"No way! That's exactly what England would say! You're an alien! You kidnapped Arthur and stole his brain!" America shouted as he pointed accusingly at the girl calmly sipping her tea.

"Really? An alien? You couldn't come up with something better?" Alice dead-paned and Alfred felt his conviction drop but his suspicion only rose consequentially.

"If you're not an alien … what are you?" he mumbled darkly. "And why do you sound like Arthur?"

"Beat me and I'll tell you!" Alice giggled, but her smile was all but reassuring. She was enjoying herself, plain and simple, and the malicious gleam in her emerald eyes was not one to take lightly.

"Aiya, then what game are we going to play?" China spoke, bringing reason back to the confused group. He also felt disturbed by the woman, even more so than the others because he was certain to have met her before. But no matter how hard he tried only blurred flashes came to his mind. He just could not remember her. Or maybe something was preventing him to remember.

"You tell me." Alice spoke while sipping her tea. This situation really made her day! To think she was worried about getting bored alone here! Teasing these guys around is hilarious and entertaining! Though she didn't have much time left, it'll still be a laugh to spend the little time she had left playing with them. The guys won't know. Not unless she tells them~

"Any game?" Japan asked with a sudden idea.

"Yeah." Alice nodded but frowned suspiciously. Oh-oh … when Japan made that face, he usually comes up with some weird thing. The last time was a creepy Japanese comic … what did he call it? Doujinshi? Yeah that! Featuring America and (Alice could not believe it but…) Arthur in an awfully suspicious relationship … WHICH THEY DO NOT HAVE! PLEASE KEEP IN MIND THAT THIS IS ALL JAPAN'S CRAZY IDEA! FICTION ONLY! NOTHING REAL!

Japan ushered his idea to the others. There were a few arguments but eventually the nations all seem to settle down with a common idea. Alice watched them, the ghosts had long left (bored) and William was too busy with his writing to pay any attention to the world around him (as usual).

"Ve? Why me?" Italy asked with a pout.

"Italy-kun, please! It has to be you because nobody else here can do it!"

"Just do what he says stupido! You've done it before anyway!"

"Lovi, you did it too, remember?"

"Chigi! Shut up or I'll kill you!"

"Allons, allons, let's all calm down! And if you want, Big brother can help prepare …"

"France, stay out of this!" Germany warned before turning to Alice. "We decided."

"Oh? You only get one try. You agree to those conditions?"

"Ja. The game we want to play … is a role-playing character multiplayer … uh … what was the rest?"

"Role-playing character multiplayer Four Aces Battle Game!" America exclaimed with sparkles in his excited blue eyes.

Alice stared at them for a minute.

…

… Uh?

"The hell is that?"

"Allow me to explain!" Japan smirked as he took out a notebook and started to draw the setting of the game on it to explain to the confused host. Alice watched, intrigued but also slightly exasperated by the weird choice of game.

"It's a video game in which we take the form of a character that each gets his own special attribute and special ability! It can be anything but the setting of the character cannot change once the game starts! It's a multiplayer game, implying that we work as a group and using strategies to benefit the common goal. The Four Aces Battle Game refers to a prototype game I am currently working on and that challenges the players to four boards of card games of any type and to which the players must win all four to unlock the final battle! In this role-playing game, I think we should modify the original plan of the battle and make it a real full-fight using our characters' abilities. The Four Aces we earn after winning the four challenges are used as bonus effects in the battle. It will randomly trigger an event that will benefit us in some way or another. To finish, I will add that there is the possibility for players to sacrifice their character's life in order to support the others and help them win. The loss of a person will not mean that he lost just that he is on temporary stand-by until the game is over. If all players are dead, we lose. For the design, I thought we could …

"I see. Indeed it is an interesting proposition."

They all looked back at Alice who was now in deep thought. She smirked, slightly excited by the perspective of this new game.

"Very well. Let's play the Four Aces Battle Game. Only, this won't be a video game. Let's make it more realistic."

"You mean a simulation?"

"Didn't I tell you before? The setting is mine to decide. This castle will be the grounds of the game. It will not be a simulation … this is real life, boys. You die and it's game over."

"W-wait! That's not …!"

"Scared?"

The nations silenced as they heard the challenging mock in the girl's voice. They all heard a distinct ring in her voice that sounded familiar … as if someone had spoken those very words, that very same way once before. And it was irritatingly frustrating! Prussia was the first to break this silence.

"The Awesome Prussia is scared of nothing and nobody! Bring it on!"

"Very good! Now … Let's see, what characters are we having? Oh and you can only select four of you to play."

"What? Why?" Antonio frowned in confusion. Since the beginning he's been staring at Alice with the nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he knew this girl. But where on earth had he met her before? And when? And how could he not remember?

"You said four challenges. Then that means you only need four of you."

"But what about the final battle?" Alfred piped up.

"Fine, I'll give you one extra but he'll only join for the last battle. This game is seriously sounding like one of those stupid video games you play with your damn alien freak." Alice muttered that last part but America clearly heard it.

"How do you know about Tony?"

For a second, the girl silenced in shock at her carelessness but soon and wide grin rushed back to her lips.

"Figure it out, love!" She purred darkly before walking out of the room though a door that materialised itself right next to her. A door that just stood on its own, not linked to a wall and barely touching the ground. The nations watched the girl walk away and the door vanish after her.

"I'll leave you to decide who's going to be one of the four players. I will personally choose the fifth at random. Once you have decided and are ready to play, ring the bell." Alice spoke before leaving the nations to their demise.

"What … the hell?" Romano blurted out and none of the others could answer.

* * *

**Minutes later …**

"Alright, are we all clear on who is entering the game?" Germany asked and everyone nodded.

"Kiku, are you sure you don't want to enter?" America turned to his friend who simply shook his head with a smile.

"No, Alfred-san. I think you will be much more suited for this than me."

"Why don't I play too?" Russia crept up on the shy Japanese man who jumped in fear.

"I-I'm sorry Russia-san but I analysed everyone's capability and estimated that America, Germany, Italy and China were the best suited for the game. China's experience and knowledge is vast and should be useful."

"Oh, yeah, like with the dragons!" Spain rolled his eyes as he snarled. Before China could retort, Kiku was already continuing his explanation.

"America has already tested my prototype recently and is the best of us after me when it comes to games."

"Because I'm the hero!"

"In this game, there is always a female character with the purpose of healing and supporting the others. Since we don't have Gilbraltar with us anymore, I assumed Italy could do just as well."

"Veee … But why me?"

"Shut up Fratello and deal with it!"

"Besides, I am aware that Italy is extremely good at card games and very lucky which could prove vital later on. Finally I chose Germany for his quick thinking, his leadership and her rationality at taking decisions with a clear mind no matter the situation." Kiku concluded his explanation.

"Hm mm. Couldn't have chosen better myself!" the soft laugh of a girl resonated in the room, making all the nations jump in surprise.

The door reappeared and Alice walked back in, a smiled on her beautiful face. She was followed by the butler in white.

"We didn't ring the bell …" Kiku started but now, looking around, he noticed there wasn't a bell to ring.

"Sure you didn't? Guess I misheard. But I believe you are decided."

"H-Hai. According to the programing in my game, I selected four characters for our players."

"And what character might I be?"

"I-I left this to be your choice?"

"… That's sweet! Thank you Kiku!"

"Hai?" Kiku stared in slight shock at the smiling girl. He had never told Alice his human name, so how did she know?

"Oi! Bunny!" The blond girl called and immediately the white butler bowed at her.

"My Lady?"

"You heard them! Let the game start!"

"As you wish."

* * *

**Elsewhere in the castle …**

Peter walked down the shifting corridors of the castle. He was trying to get his head around the discovery Victoria had given him. It was just … unbelievable and yet it made complete sense! It's so obvious he could not believe he hadn't realised it himself!

"_Now, what will you do? Forget or Silence?"_

Leon's words rang over and over again in the blonde's mind. How could he forget something as big as that?! Well, he knew how he would forget. Those fairies around the place could probably erase his memory. But did he want to forget? No. Definitely not.

But how can he keep such a big secret silence? And especially from Sweden and Finland? Sweden was so intimidating that Sealand could never lie to him, nor could he feel it in his heart to trick the innocent warm trust of Finland. He's sure to tell them! And they'll definitely tell Norway and Denmark and Iceland and then the whole world will know! Oh god! What can he do!

"I can't forget … so I'll have to hide it?"

Peter shook his head. This didn't feel right. Why should they keep this a secret! Why? It wouldn't hurt anyone to tell the truth and in fact, would save England a lot of trouble! But it was England's choice to keep this secret. And no matter what Peter said, he knew he had no way for convincing him otherwise.

A small light flew towards the pondering boy. He only noticed the fairy when he was faced with her figure millimetres from his nose. He recognised her instantly from earlier but also from his memories.

"B-Bell! You scared me!"

The fairy smiled … well, what looks like a smile for a fairy. In fact it looked creepy and scary but Peter assumed she just wanted to feel calming and warm. Not working but never mind!

_Trouble young Peter?_

The voice rang in the boy's head and he barely held back his shriek of surprise.

"W-what … did you …?"

_You changed. You weren't that fearful of me in the past._

"I-I grew up …"

_Yes. You did. Pity. I liked the little kid that believed in magic and making the impossible real._

"You … I … I don't really remember much …"

_I would be surprised if you remembered anything. I personally was the one to seal away your memories. Will I have to do it again, little master?_

"What … I … I can't … I don't know! I don't know what I should do!"

_Well, until the game is over, I guess you have plenty of time to make up your mind._

The fairy shrugged before flying away.

"Wait! What game? What are you talking about?"

_The Mistress doesn't hate this place but it's so lonely and isolated. She needed the distraction. No … that's not it. She needed … contact with the outside world. But that's too dangerous. It cannot be allowed. Ah well … I'll just erase everything. Again and again …_

"What …? Bell, wait!"

But the fairy vanished in a blink of the eye, leaving Peter alone in front of a blue sealed door.

"What is wrong with this place?"


	14. Queen of Spades

**Chap 12: Queen of Spades**

… This is impossible.

America felt a cold sweat drop roll down his temple as he stared aghast at the laid out cards on the table. His glasses falling on his nose and threatening to drop, his azure eyes widened in shock, Alfred could not even muster a single word. Slowly he lifted his eyes away from the game and to the teasing smirk of the blond girl in front of him.

"… I … lost?" The American whispered in a disbelieving breath.

"Is that a surrender?" Alice coldly spoke, her eyes as hard as the beautiful emeralds they were.

"America!" Alfred could hear the others call him. He recognised his brother's yelling but no matter how worried he was, Alfred could not detach his eyes away from Alice. He found her … beautiful but in a very sad way. He could not explain it but Alfred felt he would soon never remember that face.

"ALFRED!"

"Your brother is calling. It would be wise for you to make your move. Or to give up. It's your choice."

"I …"

Alfred snapped out of his dream as he heard a muffled sound. He looked back and to his horror saw Matthew's limp body drop dead. Alfred screamed.

"I GIVE UP!"

Alice's cold mask nodded, not showing an ounce of emotion, her eyes calculating and sharp.

"Very well." She declared, dropping her card as the game ended. "Alfred, you are disqualified. You shall remain in this room and await your fate according to the outcome of the game. Good day."

As America rushed to his unconscious brother's side, the last thing he saw was Alice's figure walk away, her red coat floating behind her. Alfred watched as the Pirate girl walked away through another one of those appearing doors, red feathered black hat falling gently like a crown on her head. And Alfred could swear he was staring once again at the figure of Arthur, years ago, when he would leave the American twins to go off on another conquest. Reaching out, Alfred didn't even think as he called.

"Arthur! Wait! Don't go!"

The girl stopped, her hand on the door's handle. She glanced back and Alfred felt a stabbing blade slash through his heart at the accusing look Alice gave him. She didn't answer back and walked out o the room, the door vanishing behind her.

* * *

**Earlier …**

Alfred woke up in a forest, himself dressed as an archer. He looked around and saw his unconscious friends: Italy as a witch (damn that girl's outfit is so cute on him!), Germany as a knight, and China as a martial arts fighter. Kiku seemed to have given them each a specific advantage: Alfred had speed and accuracy as well as long-shots range. Ludwig held strength and resistance with the use of a sword. China had agility and power and the skills of his bare-hand martial art. Italy … could at least use magic so wasn't completely useless. For once. He's useful as a healer and can enhance the other three's abilities when in need.

After quickly analysing all of their options, Alfred took a closer look to his surroundings. A forest but that wasn't the battle grounds. This was just the road leading to it. They'd have to find the place for the first challenge.

"Aiya … where are we?"

"Oh! Guys! You're up!"

"Ve! Germany! I'm scared! Where are we?"

"Italy! Get off me and calm down! America, where are we?"

"Dunno dude, I just woke up too! It looks like a forest but I think this is only the road leading up to the challenge."

"And how would you know that, aru?"

"Well, Kiku said the challenges are card games so I don't think a forest in the best setting for playing cards, you know. Besides, in those games, you always have to go through tricky routs before getting to the challenge room! Maybe we'll have to fight monsters on the way!" the pure enjoyment in Alfred's voice made Ludwig groan and Feliciano shriek in fear.

"Ve! Monsters! Really? Ludwig! I'm scared!"

"There aren't any monsters, Feliciano, so relax!"

"I'd love to second that Germany but I'm afraid I have to disagree, aru. This looks a lot like a monster to me." China spoke as he pointed at the growling beast emerging from the darkness of the trees.

"VEEEE! GEEERMAAANYYY!"

"ITALY GET OFF ME! I CAN'T USE MY SWORD WITH YOU IN THE WAY!"

"Aiya! Will both of you stop arguing and do something?"

"What do you think that thing is?"

"America don't you start! Let's just get out of here!"

"Why? If it's a game, then all we have to do is beat it, right?"

"But this is not a game, aru! Didn't you listen? This is real! With our real lives and real monsters! There is replay if we die, aru!"

"Ve? I don't want to die! Germany!"

"Italy, I can't see with your hands in my face!"

"This is disappointing. I expected more than just a childish dispute."

The four nations looked up and stared aghast at the floating figure of Alice. The fact that she was standing in mid-air just above the monster, yet didn't seem threaten by the beast in the least, was not what surprised the nations the most. What surprise them was her outfit.

"Pirate …" China muttered in a breathless voice. He could hardly believe his eyes. That red coat, that captain's hat incrusted with pearls, jewels, chains, and feathers crowning a golden head, sharp emerald eyes looking down upon them … he felt like seeing a ghost.

"Arthur?"

They all jumped at America's shy voice. Alice on the other hand glared at him but Alfred didn't recognise that glare. Arthur had never glared at him like that. Never. This glare was cold, merciless, cruel and … accusing.

"Are you going to stand around all day? You might want to hurry or your friends will be in trouble." Alice's voice spoke. It wasn't the cheerful teasing voice from earlier. This one, was deep and cold, strong and authoritarian and leaving no space for discussion.

"What? What are you saying?" Ludwig asked as he finally got Italy off him. Strangely enough, the Italian stopped screaming the moment he noticed Alice and was now staring at her in awe.

"You have 20 minutes to reach me in the challenge room. Be on time, or someone will die."

And with that said, Alice disappeared.

* * *

"Well … took you long enough!" Alice smirked darkly, her cold demeanour never leaving her expression. Seated in a large richly decorated wooden chair with red leather support, Alice sat comfortably at a round oak table, legs and arms crossed, her green cat-like eyes watching the approaching nations.

They all looked a mess, their clothes torn and with cuts and bruises all over their bodies. Inside the large cave, hidden behind a waterfall, the group of nations had finally found the hidden door leading to Alice's challenge room. On the door, a Spade was drawn but none of the nations except Italy paid it much attention. All four stared at the girl. Her movements, her appearance, her speech, everything was familiar yet everything felt different. How so?

"We made it on time!" Alfred spoke up first, causing the girl to smirk knowingly.

"Indeed. It would have been sad if you hadn't. I didn't particularly want Matthew to die just yet. It would make me sad."

"W-what …?" Alfred chocked.

"Or Gil, or Kiku, or Romano. That wouldn't make me happy at all." Alice continued on as if discussing the weather but the icy expression on her face and the burning truth in her eyes told them that her threat was all but empty words.

"W-wait! What are you talking about?" Ludwig growled in sudden panic.

"Which one of you shall go first?" Alice ignored the man's question and was busy tapping her fingers on a virtual tablet that appeared in front of her. As she typed, virtual cards appeared in the centre of the table but double the size of normal cards.

"Wait! What were you saying about our friends?" The German insisted but was silenced when China placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Vee … China?"

"What are you doing …"

"Germany, calm down. This is no time to panic."

"Says the old and wise!" Alice chuckled as she was now playing with the cards, moving them around in the air like images. China couldn't stop feeling that this girl … was exactly like …

"We need to decide who will go first." He spoke with a voice of knowledge and experience that impressed the younger nations and submitted their arguing spirits. For now, all China could do was follow the rules. After all, Alice had been very clear that this game would be more than just a game. Hostages? Not unusual. In the past games served as gambling. Here, this is probably ...

"I'll go first!" America spoke.

"No, I think I should go first." Germany argued.

"Ve! I don't want to go!"

"Very well, America, you are used to those games. You go first. Germany, we still can't let you go on ahead when this is your first time." China concluded, ending the rising argument. The Chinese man then turned to the woman. She was watching them, cold as ever, her expression slightly bored of waiting.

"America will go first. What are the bets?"

Alice smirked, satisfaction gleaming in her eyes.

"Well done, Yao! I knew you'd get it!"

The Chinese man cringed at the use of his first name. He didn't understand how a complete stranger could know his name and use it so familiarly! Supposing that Alice is indeed a complete stranger, but the old man is starting to have doubts about it.

"What? What are you both talking about?" Alfred frowned in confusion, her gaze shifting back and forth from Yao to Alice. The girl snapped her fingers and a metal ring circled her neck, a large axe hovered dangerously above her head and the wielder of that axe was …

"Antonio!" Feliciano yelped in surprise.

The Spaniard looked just as shocked and surprised as the others. He could not move or even talk, his position barely holding and preventing the axe from chopping Alice's head off. China felt a sudden fear and the urge to tear Alice away from Antonio. But he remained silent and instead nodded.

"And on our side?" He asked with dread.

"Since you said America was taking this round … then …" She snapped her fingers again and behind the chair awaiting Alfred at the table, Matthew appeared. He too held a ring around his neck and the one holding the axe to him was a cloaked figure whose face was indiscernible.

"Please, take a seat." Alice smiled coldly at the American, making an inviting gesture towards the empty chair.

* * *

The cards were not virtual like America first thought. They were very much real and yet they still floated in front of him, moving around at his will without even the need to touch them, almost like … magic. But that's impossible, right? America was seriously starting to think that he should have listened to Arthur more often concerning his imaginary friends. Too late for that now. Right now, her had to win this game. For Matthew's sake, for his sake, for the group's sake and for Arthur's sake. If Arthur was here, he would know what to do in this situation! Damn!

"It's your choice, Alfred. Which card game shall we play?"

"Uh? I get to choose?"

"Of course. Anything."

"… Then … Spades!" Alfred spoke as he remembered the Spade design on the door earlier. Plus he was particularly confident with that game and knew for a fact that very few people outside the US knew how to play that game. There is no way he could lose!

"Spades it is then." Alice smirked maliciously as she distributed the cards.

And the game begun.

* * *

_Spades was invented in the USA in the 1930's and is played quite widely in that country. Until recently it has been little known elsewhere, except in a few places where American troops were stationed, for example in parts of Germany. However, since the mid 1990's Spades has become popular internationally because of its easy availability in on-line card rooms on the Internet. Spades is a plain-trick game in which spades are always trumps. _

* * *

Alfred couldn't stop himself from watching Alice throughout the game. The movements of her hands, her cold poker face, the shifting of her eyes and slight occasional twitch of her eyebrows … all of those reminded Alfred of Arthur. But that's not possible! Besides, Arthur would never be that cruel and he would never put anybody's life in danger like that! Especially not his or Matthew's! … Right? Yeah! Of course not! That's ridiculous!

Alice's emeralds looked up and for the first time since the beginning of the game, the ghost of smirk cornered her lips. It did nothing to reassure Alfred. Not only that but, Alice seemed to know how to play very well. Even he was having trouble keeping his lead and he invented this game! But he could not lose. There is no other option but victory!

Behind him, Alfred could feel Matthew's worried gaze on them. The Canadian had also noticed the resemblance between Alice and his former care-taker but that only made him worry more. Because for all he remembered, every time he or Alfred had played against England in a game, every time, they had lost to the Englishman. And that Alice … felt and looked exactly like Arthur.

"Don't get distracted." Alice whispered as Matthew felt the blade of the axe lower itself against his neck. Alfred's eyes widened as he saw Antonio react like a mirror to cloaked executor, his own axe threatening Alice's neck. The Spanish nation wore an expression of pure horror on his usually carefree face. But as Alice looked up at him and winked, Antonio hoped deeply in his heart that she had a plan to prevent him from cutting her down. For some reason, the Spaniard felt unable to arm the beautiful blond girl. And holding an axe to her neck is the last thing he ever wanted to do!

"Relax Anthony. The game is far from over." Alice hummed gently and Antonio's eyes widened. The only person who called him Anthony was … But that's not possible!

* * *

**Hours later …**

Matthew watched as he slowly noticed Antonio and the cloaked executor stopped mirroring each other. As the game advanced, Antonio's body moved the axe further and further away from Alice, while Matthew felt a cold skeletal hand wrap itself around his neck. And he knew why.

Alfred was losing.

The cold grip tightened itself with every move and Canada felt it difficult to breathe. He barely still followed the game and from what he could see, things didn't look good. As he looked up, his eyes crossed with Alice's green ones. Alfred was too busy to notice but Matthew clearly saw the silent apology and sadness in her eyes. He had seen such a look before. Only once. The time when Arthur had asked for his help against Alfred. And that time Matthew had had no hesitation. Even now, he would do it all over again if Arthur asked. And now … this very same look … in those identical eyes … Matthew remembers all of the many legends Arthur used to story-tell them when he and Alfred were young. And this person before him … that girl … was she one of those legends?

Who is she?

Why is she so …?

"A-Arthur?" The Canadian whispered in strangled breath as he felt unconscious take over and dropped to the ground. The cloaked man vanishing away as the game came to an end.

And Alfred lost.


	15. The Witch's Tarot

**Chap 13: The Witch's Tarot**

Germany blinked as he felt the blinding light hit his face. Looking around he saw themselves on an empty beach by the rocky coast of high cliffs and the crashing waves cruelly ripping to shreds anything that dared to take a swim. Alongside him, Italy and China were still in a deep slumber. The German, sharp on his feet, decided to take a look around and secure the area. The beach he noticed was relatively quiet and safe but whenever he tried reaching for the cliffs, rock falls seemed to be triggered on his path and Germany swore he saw shadows up on the top of the cliffs. The sea wasn't any more reassuring as Germany could guess the large threatening shapes of sea-monsters roaming around, just waiting for their next meal … assuming you don't get crushed by the wild waves before serving as dinner of the fishes.

Yet something wasn't right.

This beach is secluded and empty. No special passage to a secret room and Germany knew that the next game was only around the corner. He just had figure out next corner and without America's insight in those kind of games, he was seriously struggling. This was nothing like real life. In this game, everything and anything is possible. For example, even a floating island out in the sea holding a large mountain carved into some odd looking castle is considered normal … wait! What?!

Ludwig narrowed his eyes onto the blue horizon. There definitely was a giant rock thing floating above it and it awfully looked like a small island. The island did look like some rocks stacked up together and mainly showed a mountainous panoramic. The large mountain in its centre seemed to have been carved and shaped to resemble some sort of castle? A very odd castle but still …

"Is that our next challenge?" China groaned as he woke up and glanced at the floating island out I the open sea. Germany shrugged, unable to answer.

"Ve … No … I don't … VE! Don't go!" Italy yelled suddenly and woke in tears and sweat from his nightmare. Both Ludwig and Yao stared at him, half surprised that Italy could have nightmares, and half shocked by how terrified he seemed. Feliciano bolt up awake and straddle his legs with his arms, wrapping himself into a ball and rocking his body gently back and forth like a terrified child. His chocolate eyes wider than ever and his hair curl crumpled and trembling nervously. This must have been one hell of a nightmare!

"Feliciano? Are you alright?" Ludwig hesitantly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, unsure of how to deal with his frightened friend. Feliciano shook his head, his face shadowed by the bangs of his hair, but he spoke not a single word.

"Maybe we should let him rest a little?" Yao suggested.

"I'm afraid there is no time for that." The female familiar voice resonated in the calmness of the beach.

In a sudden rushed panic, Yao and Ludwig looked up, fighting positions at the ready. What they saw surprised them to no end.

The girl had swapped her pirate outfit for a long white hooded robe, a leather belt circling her waist. Trading her feathered black hat for a golden ring circling her head, her golden short hair looked longer than previously or maybe it was just the wind blowing as she slowly walked toward towards them, skipping down from a few rocks near the sea. She was bare foot and in the simplest clothes, her white clothing melting over her body like a second skin and revealing interesting (too say the least) curves that made Yao and Ludwig blush.

Feliciano's soft mutters went unheard until Alice tilted her head, frowning in confusion at the Italian.

"The hell's his problem?" She promptly asked the German but it sounded like a demand. Germany blushed, looking away from the inviting chest Alice's outfit let him guessed.

"He … He had a nightmare … or something … probably about pasta …" he muttered, glancing half-heartedly at his friend. He could tell Feliciano looked amazingly cute in that witch outfit, with his little pointy hat tilted on his brunet head. As Germany looked back to the hosting woman, his widen in surprise and disbelief. The girl's expression had radically softened and she even allowed concern to show in her bright emerald eyes. Noticing Ludwig's reaction, Alice realised she had been too transparent and her icy façade rushed back. She pointed a finger towards the floating castle out at sea.

"The next challenge. Don't disappoint me."

"Wait! Aru! Before that, I'd like to talk!"

"Talk?" Alice tilted her head, confused. "What is there to talk about?"

"Why are you doing this? Who are you and … …" Yao paused, hesitating on whether to speak his last words or not.

"Boredom mainly." Alice didn't give him a chance to further question her and promptly answered with such dismissive attitude, Yao felt doubts about his theory.

"Boredom?" Ludwig chocked.

_Boredom_?! She was bored? Boredom is a suitable reason to torture, trick, and manipulate people?! Is boredom a reason to force people into death games? Is boredom a reason to play around with people's lives like they were nothing more than toys?!

"Pretty much, yes." Alice's eyes pierced through Ludwig, and the German had an odd feeling that she was not only confirming his last enquiry but also his thoughts.

Feliciano had stopped mumbling and softly looked up at the druidess. His eyes widen and he immediately looked away, red faced and fearing the memory of his dream. He was certain now … this girl is exactly the same …

"I'm Alice. That's all you need to know. Now, there is no time limit so take whatever time you want but your only way out is through this castle. I also don't advise you to head back through the forest behind us. Nor to fall in the sea waters. You wouldn't want to die, would you?"

And with twinkling green eyes and a smirking expression, Alice walked away, her figure slowly vanishing out of existence.

* * *

Alice hurried out of the room and shut the door. She raced down the stairs, throwing off her white robe and revealing her entire naked body underneath it (you wouldn't think but a druid's outfit is freaking warm to wear!). Jumping lights appeared around her, and clothes floated to her. Alice smiled at the Faeries and hurriedly slipped on her dark jeans and overly too large black T-shirt with a lion leaping across it.

"What about your bra?" a scolding voice resonated in her mind and Alice rolled her eyes at it.

"Later!" She hissed and her hands landed on the door handle leading to the front hallway.

She froze as she saw her white butler had already answered the door and the two men walked in. Two pairs of emeralds narrowed on her and the red hair lifted a questioning thick eyebrow.

"The hell's your bra?" He asked with a sigh, already used to his sister's constant forget of bras. Alice shrugged.

"Forgot. Hi Will! How was your trip?" The blond girl turned to her brown haired brother smoking his pipe with that adorable dazed look.

"Oi! Don't ignore me!" Alistair growled before shoving his coat in the white butler's hands, soon followed by William.

"How did you know I wasn't wearing one, anyway?" Alice shot him a cheeky grin and her eyes screamed 'pervert', causing her brother to turn as red as his crimson hair.

"You're not flat enough for anyone not to notice if your breasts are hanging or not. Go put some fucking clothes on!"

"What's wrong with my clothes now? Nobody's here anyway!" Alice rolled her eyes but obeyed nonetheless.

"The trip was nice." Will finally answered and earned a glare of irritation from his red haired older brother but a hysterical laugh from his younger sister.

"Tea's ready. Shakespeare should still be in the tea room. I think he got hooked on some new play he's writing."

"I'll never understand why the wanker is still hanging around …" Alistair mumbled. Although he didn't really have a right to say this, considering his land holds more ghosts than living people.

William Kirkland (Wales) yawned and instead, headed for the room filled with dragons. No sooner did he open it than he noticed the odd agitation and that someone had manhandled his precious dragons. Whistling, a large red dragon answered him. Wales carefully inspected Ruby and sighed in relief. She was his favourite and he would not allow anyone to hurt her. But poor Cobalt wasn't as lucky (yes, Wales likes to name his pets using names of rocks), as he noticed the now blind black dragon he had appointed to guard the pit.

"Someone's going to die." He muttered, his usually dazed calm green eyes now glowing of an insane murderous anger.

* * *

"Now what?" China growled.

They had tried the forest only to be chased back to the beach by some … he doesn't even know and didn't want to know! Then after trying the ocean, the three nations nearly died eaten by some sea monster! Days had passed and here they were, back where they had started and staring hopelessly at the floating castle up ahead.

"Ve … If we could fly we could reach it in no time!" Feliciano brightly pointed out only to receive exasperated and irritated sighs from his two companions.

"That's great Feliciano! And where do you see a plane around?"

"Ve? But … When we were lost in that old castle before, Sealand made us fly with magic!"

"Oh great! And where are we going to find Sealand or magic in this empty beach?" Ludwig felt his level of tolerance rise and if Feliciano kept talking nonsense, he might just throw him to the sea creatures. Even that might not shut him up!

"Actually, maybe Feliciano's right." Yao slowly let a smile stretch his lips as he received confused looks from both his friends. "Feliciano, your character in this game is that of a witch, isn't it? Then magic shouldn't be a problem!"

"Ve? B-But I don't know how to do any magic!"

"We've got nothing left to lose, aru! Just try!"

"Ve!" Feliciano turned to seek Germany's advice and only got a curt nod, even though he saw little conviction in Ludwig's eyes. "I-I'll try … … veee … How do I start?"

* * *

_Basic Hungarian Tarokk is generally known as Húszashívásos tarokk, or Paskievics tarokk after Ivan Fyodorovich Paskevich, the prince of Warsaw who led Russian troops to Hungary to put down the Hungarian revolution and war of independence in 1848/49. Possibly there is some connection between the year '48 and the 48 card points needed to win the game. It is a tarot game played with a shortened pack of 42 cards, with an advanced structure of bids and bonuses. The game was developed in the 19th century from a version of Austrian Zwanzigerrufen, and became the favourite game of the Hungarian establishment. It was discouraged during the communist era because of its association with the gentry, but in the current more liberal political climate, interest in this fine game may again be increasing. It is reported that according to the Austrian playing-card manufacturer Piatnik, sales of Tarokk cards in Hungary are currently around 3500 to 4000 packs per year. Tarokk is played with a 42 card pack. There are four plain suits (hearts, diamonds, clubs and spades) each consisting of only five cards, and 22 tarokks, which function as trump cards. Tarokk cards are normally sold as a 54 card pack with eight cards in each plain suits; from this you remove the 7s, 8s and 9s of the black suits and the 2s, 3s and 4s of the red suits to leave the 42 cards needed for the game._

* * *

"Is this the game you wish to play?" Alice blinked, slightly surprised. Tarot? That's an odd choice for a young nation like Germany.

The German's icy blue gaze never left Alice's face and he avoided looking towards the giant hourglass and the angry Prussian locked inside. Behind him, Germany knew to be a small Sealand locked in an identical hourglass. And the golden powder drizzled down, slowly filling up the breathing space for the two hostages. Sealand being smaller, he would be buried quicker and that played in Alice's disadvantage. But more surprising is to see Sealand in that container. What links could he possibly have to Alice?

Germany glanced worriedly back but the boy was simply sitting still, watching the game as if not worried in the least about his fate. Peter's calm demeanour reminded Ludwig of Arthur. It's amazing how the two resemble each other so much, aside from their eyes. Peter's eyes were blue and of a more innocent glow … well, they used to be. Now, if not for the colour, Ludwig could almost mistake Peter's eyes for Arthur's. No fear or worry in a usually cry-baby and loud micronation. What happened to the boy? What changed him so?

"I don't mind."

Ludwig turned back to the girl facing him and a tarot game materialised out of thin air, surprising the German slightly. The reason Ludwig had chosen this game was because it's old and hardly anyone knows how to play it. Not only that, he chose the version Hungary had taught him when he was young and he was certain that aside from Germanic nations, nobody else would know this game. He'd make sure to win! No matter the cost, he could not allow his brother to get buried alive!

"Shall we, then?" Alice smiled warmly and for second, Germany's mind blanked at how radiant she looked. Odd … she reminded him of someone … but who?

* * *

Peter watched, not worried in the least. If anything, he knew his … his _mother_ to be unbeatable at card games. Or any game for that matters. After all, she taught him all those games. He didn't worry. Alice would win. Absolutely.

His ocean blue eyes narrowed on the Prussian fated to the same situation as him. He wasn't taking well being locked inside a glass container and slowly being buried alive. Peter wouldn't be too happy either in similar situation. But he wasn't in the same situation at all. Quite the opposite. Because Peter's fate was assured. He knew it. He knew that no matter how desperate or smart Germany is, … Alice is 100 times smarter and determined. She won't lose.

The boy's mind drifted off to the previous events of the past few days. He still couldn't believe it fully but somehow … it felt so obvious that he was surprised to have never figured it out until now. It was so painful obvious and yet … how could so little people know? To think he would also be idly oblivious to it too if he hadn't followed the world's nations on their quest to find England. Ironic that this all started from something so random as an argument.

* * *

_Peter woke up to the loud shouts coming from the neighbouring room. His parents were … arguing? That's … well, since a couple of months now, they've been at it for more than is sanely recommended for couples. Besides, this was the first time that Peter was seeing his parents argue. Usually, one or the other would agree and there was hardly any tensions between Sweden and Finland. But for some reason, the two started fighting. At first, the fights were scares and only small dispute. Although it shocked Peter, he just assumed it would pass. But the more time passed, the more violent the fights grew._

_He had tried to seek advice from Norway and Denmark but to no avail. Then didn't believe anything wrong could be going between the couple. Nobody could. It's just unconceivable and Peter would normally agree, if he hadn't been witnessing two months of angry fighting (literarily fighting) between his parents. But what surprised him most was that the one to always surrender first was Sweden. He would fight but when seeing Tino reach his peak of anger, the taller man would retreat and mumble a half-heated apology before walking away. Tino was then left to cry his heart out alone, cursing the other man and cursing himself._

* * *

_Whenever Peter or anyone else was around, the couple acted like they used to as if nothing was wrong. But Peter could feel the air between them had grown cold and tensed. He didn't like it. It scared him. But nobody would listen to his voice! Who would listen to him? Who would care enough to believe him? Who cold he turn to in this desperate time …_

_Peter had been drawn out of his dark thoughts by America's loud question._

"_Where's England?"_

_England? Uh. England could help? Couldn't he? They were related after all … although Peter isn't exactly sure how but he looked so much like the Jerk that he could be mistaken for his younger self's clone. Except for their eyes. And in a way, Peter always felt a bit jealous. He had inherited blue eyes that reflected the sea. Arthur's eyes were of an intense emerald green like the ever-green land of his island … the same eyes as all the British Isles. In a way, Peter felt jealous to be the only one not to have inherited those eyes. He had the eyebrows (and frankly he could have dealt without them) but not the eyes. Not those piercing glowing eyes of a wild animal on a hunt. Why not? Geographically speaking, Sealand is the closest to England. Closer than Wales or Scotland because technically speaking he is in England! So why did he feel so far away? Why did he feel isolated? Why did it hurt so much when England had handed him to Sweden?_

_Uh?_

_Peter frowned slightly as he peered through the ventilation grill, spying expertly on the World Conference. England's … not here. How could he have missed this? England's gone? How? Why? England never misses a meeting! Even when it's one that America summoned on a whim the night before! He would in fact charge first to the meeting just to yell at his ex-colony and let him know in person a piece of his mind! That's what England would normally do._

"_England …" The boy whispered anxiously. Could he be in trouble? No! That's not possible! Arthur can deal with any problem and get out of it without a single scratch! Peter was confident in his ability and could not imagine Arthur needing help._

_The boy's surveyed the various reactions of the nations in the room. His eye fell on his adoptive parents. They were acting odd again but in the massive confusion, nobody noticed. Sweden looked seriously worried and kept glancing nervously at the door, as if hoping to see someone walk in. Finland was glaring at his partner hatefully, the usual intimidated expression on his face when he looks at Berwald had now turned to fury. He whispered something to the Swede and earned an icy glare (a real glare not a Sweden-glare-like-look) from the taller man. They both snapped words to each other but Peter was too far too hear them. Their expression change though was enough to tell that this would end up as their worst fight yet. And among the chaotic mess of nations, nobody noticed the Nordic couple having a full on fight, with Tino yelling to a glaring Berwald._

_And despite it all … England never showed up_

* * *

"_Do you remember this place?"_

_Alice's face showed hesitance and maybe even hope? Why? Had he been here before? This did feel familiar but … The boy shook his head and watched Alice's expression turn cold and her eyes dull slightly. She was upset but wouldn't show it. Exactly like Arthur would react._

"_I see. Well, if you remember, let me know. Until then, Leon, take him back to the Nordics."_

"_W-wait! Can I … can I stay? I d-don't want to go back! Not … yet." Peter lowered his head. He didn't want to return to all the screaming and fighting. He just wanted to see Arthur. He just wanted … his dad. Was this too much to ask?_

_Alice's expression never changed as she gazed down upon the boy but her green eyes softened and she nodded to Leon. The Cantonese man bowed as she left them while snapping her fingers. Instantly Peter fell limp on the bed, fast asleep. If he's going to stay then she'd just have to make sure that the boy doesn't get into trouble while in her home, Alice decided. Leon would take him home to Sweden once he wakes up and has calmed down. This is for the best. For Peter's sake._

* * *

_Peter listened carefully to Victoria's explanation, not missing a word. It sounded unreal. The information fell like a wall of bricks on his head and Sealand had difficulties following it all._

"_So that's how things are. Along with the British Isles, Leon and I, you're the only one to know of this secret. We can't let an outsider find out the truth. Do you understand? Especially not our parents!" Victoria concluded, Spain's face flashing in her mind and she clenched her fist._

_Leon carefully watched the younger boy's reaction. Unexpectedly, Peter took the revelation pretty well and simply nodded. His blue eyes showed understanding realisation, as if he had always had a doubt about this and was now finally getting the truth._

"_If Arthur is not my father … then who is?" Peter enquired with bright curious blue eyes and his expression identical in all points to England's._

_The two colonies shrugged. They knew their parents but had no way of knowing about other nations' business. And frankly, they didn't care._

"_If Arthur left you in care of Sweden and Finland, then I would bet on one of them." Victoria explained, her mind as sharp as her British father's._

"_Sweden." Peter mumbled and suddenly an understanding fear downed on him._

_Sweden and Finland's fighting had started just after that time when Sweden had dropped Peter off at Arthur's house for a couple of weeks. It was in winter and that time, the snow had been particularly abundant, all airports in Britain had been forced to close, not to mention the ones in Sweden. Thus resulting in Sweden being stuck in England for the whole time of Peter's stay. They missed Christmas with Finland and the Finnish man didn't take it too well. Christmas is sacred for Tino and having been left alone while Berwald was staying with Arthur … ah. Tino probably got jealous. Probably._

…

_With good reasons._

_Peter smiled as he remembered the way his father had kept staring at England the entire time. Oh sure, he got rounded up by Ireland and Wales, teased and warned concerning nearing England, but the desire in Berwald's icy blue eyes was even more intense than when he stared at Tino normally. With Tino, Berwald looks like he's admiring his cute little pet. But when he stared at Arthur, it was desire, want, need, things that Peter had never seen in Berwald's eyes until now._

_Oddly enough … it had been his best Christmas ever._

_Pity about Finland._

…

_Oh. Now he even sounded as cruel as Arthur. Oh well!_

* * *

Peter looked up as he heard the strangled cry of disbelief. He watched Germany's pale face turn of a cadaveric green. Prussia had sand reaching to his neck already. Uh? That's odd. Peter was still only at waist level. Or was Prussia's sand falling faster? The boy's eyes narrowed on the game and understanding lightened up his face.

Of course.

Arthur was winning. Of course the falling of the sand in the hourglasses will be changeable according to your success throughout the game.

And of course, Arthur was winning.

After all … How could anyone beat a witch at a Tarot game?

* * *

"That's not … possible … how …?" Ludwig mumbled panickly while Alice dropped her final move on this game.

"Improbable, you mean. Not impossible. And with that, I believe … it's my win."

Ludwig stared absurdly at her. Nobody had been able to beat him these easily at this game except Hungary. Just who was that beautiful girl? And how could she …

Uh?

Just now … the flicker of sadness in Alice's eyes as she glanced at Gilbert. Was she worried? But why? Ludwig watched and felt an odd sense of déjà vu overcome him as he watched the dry expression of Alice turn into a sadistic smirk. He had seen that smirk before. And those eyes.

"England …" He muttered in a breath, earning Alice's sudden attention as she shot wide eyes at him.

"What?" Her order was cold and daring. Ludwig regretted instantly ever speaking this name.

"N-nothing." He mumbled.

Alice glared angrily but soon enough, she snapped her fingers and the two hourglasses broke to pieces, Gilbert fell out of his, spitting sand and coughing in between two curses. Ludwig hurriedly rushed to him, worried beyond belief at the thought that he had nearly lost his brother.

The ruby red eyes narrowed on Alice and it seemed as though Gilbert was about to insult her but he didn't. Instead, he watched her walk up to the blond boy, still calmly seated in his broken hourglass. Peter took her hand and it almost looked like a loving mother walking her son home as they both headed towards the appearing door with a diamond shaped on it.

"Ludwig, you are disqualified. You will remain in this room until the conclusion of this game." Alice spoke professionally and the two blonds walked out into thin air.

* * *

"… Fuck." Gilbert blurted out, his voice raspy from all the sand he had ingested. Ludwig supported his albino brother over his shoulder as they remained locked in this room, alone.

"I can't believe you lost …"

"I can't believe it either. I'm sorry, bruder."

"Hey! The awesome me is still awesomely alive, aren't I? So everything's awesome!"

Ludwig allowed a shy smile on his face, relieved in his guilt that his brother had forgiven him so easily. Never again. He had sworn to himself after the berlin wall that never again would he let Prussia take the fall for him … and he just broke that promise.

"I don't get it. Why am I still alive?" Gilbert wondered aloud. "I thought if we lost, we died."

"… I suppose, she's waiting to see the final result. Whether we live or not will depend on who will win the game."

"Seeing how things are going, we're as good as dead. Although I'm already dead so maybe I'll get free pass? Kesese!" Gilbert laughed and although he was being as annoying and irresponsible as ever, Ludwig laughed with him, unable to hold back his tears of joy. His brother is alive and that's all that matters.


	16. The Emperor's Last Domino

**Chap 14: The Emperor's last Domino**

Saying that Alistair Kirkland was pissed is an understatement. A very heavy understatement.

The Scotsman sat arms crossed over his broad chest, his blood red hair shadowing his face slightly as he glared acid cold emeralds on the woman seated across him. That poor excuse of a sister … brother …? What-the-fuck-ever! _That_ poor excuse of a nation was perfectly alright in just sitting there, half naked in wearing only that overly large T-shirt (nope, she hadn't changed) and some male's boxers displaying the English flag (nope, not the union flag). And she _dared_ to smirk at him! That little pest is going to learn not to fuck with his nerves no matter how many times Alistair must pummel it into that little blond head of hers!

Seated next to the older male nation, William Kirkland was sipping his tea quietly, his mind busy planning his next murder. You could tell he was in a bad mood from the dark shine in his emerald eyes and the small frown of his thick eyebrows, even though his mess of woolly brown hair made it difficult to see much of his face as he held his head low, muttering curses in his breath. He hardly paid attention to his siblings, too busy musing over who-the-fuck-had-dared-to-hurt-his-fucking-dragons ! There will be blood to spill. Lots of it.

Peter felt uncomfortable and shifted awkwardly next to Alice. First of all, he felt awkward from being seated so close to a near naked female (no matter how much related they are)! Then he felt awkward under the inspecting heavy glare of Scotland (no joke, he's scary)! And finally, the overall strange situation and atmosphere in the room would make any sane person leave and wish to never return!

Finally, in an isolated corner of the room, Shakespeare busied himself with his new play, rambling on forever like he always does. Nobody cared to pay him any heed. They never do. The poor man went mad after the death of his son and never quite regained his full sanity. On the bright side, his craziness allowed his genius to mature and to give birth to all those amazing plays that built up the English language. Alright, maybe reviving the guy after his death because he had begged England for time to finish his last piece of work might not have been Alice's best idea. But hey! She pitied the poor lad, and he is a genius! Kind of feels like a waste not to bring him back! Well … mister zombie did finish his play in the end … and guess what? He went on to do more! Alice couldn't get rid of him so she sealed him to this place which frankly is so fucking big and changeable that a human life time is not enough to visit! And it gives her company for tea.

Talking of Alice, the girl dropped in her tea two sugars and then added some milk in another full cup of the warm liquid which she handed to the furious glaring red hair. Scotland accepted the tea, not speaking a word and drank in silence, his eyes never leaving the calm demeanour of the girl as she drank her own cup. Alice ran a hand through her hair, pushing the golden locks away from her face. Her hair felt longer. Damn faeries were probably trying to fix her up with a long hair style! It'll be a pain to cut off later! She placed her cup back in its saucer and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest, cringing slightly at the feel of her breasts. Damn things are just so big and in the way! And it's heavy! How do girls live with those constantly?

Not that she's in a good place to talk. Considering that she is a girl and all.

Well, sort off.

Well, not really.

Well, only partially.

Well, really just a little.

Well, actually …

"Are you planning on staying in that outrageous outfit for the entire day?" Alistair's hissed words drew Alice's attention back to reality.

She looked down at her clothes. Ok, so she was not wearing a bra but that's because she always felt uncomfortable when wearing one of those. Can't blame her for it since she usually never needs to wear one. And ok, maybe she's only wearing boxers but that never is an issue back in the Union House. In fact, more than once, Alice remembers having to yell at her undisciplined brothers to not wander around their home in only their boxers and certainly to stop leaving their dirty clothes lying around the fucking place! So seriously! In comparison, her current state of clothing is almost worth going to a ball with!

"Why do you always make such a fuss about my appearance and clothes whenever I'm like this?" She rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly.

"Because you're a woman! Do you even understand that?" Alistair shouted back, grabbing his hair in frustration and looking up at the sky as if expecting god to have the decent mind of miraculously help his sister gain common sense … and clothes!

"Like anyone here is going to care!" Alice snapped back but a soft smile tugged her lips. It was always good fun to tease Scottie around like that. He can be so prude sometimes, you'd be surprised!

William seemed to snap out of his dark thoughts at that moment and his eyes finally took notice of his sister and the small boy she had brought back with her so suddenly. He tilted his head slightly at Peter, scrutinizing him with a stare that revealed nothing of his thoughts before he shrugged and turned back to his sister. You could consider Scotland prude but you have never met Wales. The man jumped out of his seat, his green eyes glaring a scold at his sister and he pulled off him his emerald green pullover (handmade by himself - England's not the only one that's good at knitting and sewing) and threw it to his blond sibling. He then snapped his finger and a pair of black joggies appeared out of thin air under the bemused expression of Peter. Alice simply was not amused.

"Put those on." William ordered with his deep and rich voice. Just from the intonations and the sound of it, you could tell that he had an exquisite voice and would charm you to the heavens with a song. And you'd be right. Wales has an amazing singing voice. Except he doesn't speak much unless to state his opinion, precisely to not damage that voice of his. But once you get him started, it's impossible to shut him up. Like all the British siblings.

Alice growled and stubbornly ignored her older brothers as she huffed.

"Grow up the both of you! It's not like you've never seen me naked before and Peter's fine with it! Aren't you, love?"

The shy boy suddenly became the centre of attention of three sets of half-glaring half-expecting emerald eyes. God … those siblings really do look alike even when they get pissed. The boy nodded shyly, to see only Alice smile happily while her brothers mumbled to themselves in languages that Peter had never heard before.

"Fine. If nobody's around, you can." William finally spoke.

Alice grinned victoriously but her smirk fell as she heard the next words her brother spoke.

"But since I know for a fact that there are people here, then I cannot allow any unworthy eyes to befall your current state."

"You make it sound like I'm in quarantine." Alice grumbled darkly. Her mind panicked but she showed none of it in her body language and kept a calm and controlled demeanour as she asked her Welsh sibling:

"What was that about people here? Who the fuck could be here?"

"Exactly! _Who_ the fuck is here?!" Scotland growled angrily and his eyes wide in sudden panic at the prospect that someone had infiltrated this place. He grabbed his brown haired brother's collar and glared down at him furiously. Will didn't seem in the least intimidated. Well, that's mainly because Alistair was not being particularly intimidating right now. He's just freaking out. Although in Peter's eyes, the Scot looked like a deranged demon. And maybe he was right.

"I don't know _who_. But I know that someone has been fucking around with my dragons. Cobalt has lost his sight and his eyes are still bleeding. It took me hours to heal him. And I'm going to murder the wanker who did this. Twice." Will's eyes glowed dangerously while Alistair let go of him, his expression pensive.

The red hair's eyes darted to his sister suspiciously then to the boy.

"Aly … Did you let anyone in?"

"And how the hell would I do that? Nobody ever knocks on this door, you know it very well." Alice shrugged. She knew if she let her brothers find out about the trespassers, she'd never hear the end of it! Plus it would provoke the whole hassle of not getting them killed by her siblings and then erase their memories and then … just way too much trouble. Especially on her holidays.

"And you don't know of anybody getting in here? Aside from the Viking lad?"

Peter jumped at the name. Viking? He had never thought of himself as such. But then again, if his father really is Sweden then … makes sense. Though the child heard a touch of despise in the Scot's words. Maybe Alistair hated Vikings?

Yes he did. A lot.

Buuuut … that's not the point right now!

"I told you already!" Alice's face was growing red from her frustration and she glared at her brother. "Victoria and Leon came to visit and accidentally ended up bringing Peter along. If there has been a break in, then I know nothing of it!" Alice huffed and went back to sipping her tea under the twin sets of suspicious glares of her brothers.

"Fine." Alistair snapped his fingers and the butler appeared, white and impeccable as ever, his red eyes twinkling of amusement. "Search and find any intruder. Then report back. That's an order." Alistair's tone of voice left no place for arguing.

Peter got frightened for a moment and glanced worriedly at his mother. But Alice winked maliciously at him. With that small gesture, the child relaxed.

Sure, Scotland and Wales were now suspicious and wouldn't stop until they were absolutely sure that nobody had showed up in this secret castle but so long as nothing was found then nobody would get hurt. Besides, Alice was having way too much fun to stop now! When did she ever get to play tricks like that to other nations? Usually people make fun of her magic and for once, she would be the one to play with them!

Assuming the idiots don't die.

That'd be a pain to explain to the world.

And a bigger pain to explain to her brothers.

Oh well!

* * *

Yao and Feliciano were the two remaining players of this death game. They both somehow ended up walking down an endless trail of stairs in a pitch black surrounding that made it seem like the stairs were floating in empty dark space. Looking up nothing but endless stairs. Looking down, pretty much the same thing.

So what now?

Yao didn't even remember how he landed here. When he came to, he was already walking down, like in trance state. But for how long already had he and the Italian walked like that? And how long more until something appeared to change this endless loop? Time had lost all meaning here and Yao almost felt like they would be doomed to wander those steps for the rest of their existences. Sad future.

Suddenly, a voice resonated not far off. A giggle. High pitched and innocent, like one of a child. Yao looked over at the Italian but Feliciano seemed to not have heard the laughter. The Chinese stopped and watched in the surprise his fellow nations walk past him and continue downwards, like he had stopped seeing him. Eventually even China saw Italy's figure blur and in the midst of the shadows, the girly flashy dress outfit of Italy also drowned and vanished. Yao was alone, standing still on the edge of an endless staircase, listening to the sweet laughter of a child. Three words drew his attention. Words that oddly sounded familiar, like he had heard them before but couldn't for the life of him recall when or where. Or why he had forgotten.

_"Let's go home."_

Home. A concept that China is well aware but never quite felt at ease with. He shook his head and focused back on the laughter. He now could differentiate two voices. One that sounded like a young boy, the one that had spoken the words. But the other one … it was brighter, cheerier, and … familiar? Why is that?

_"Please!"_ A whisper, a prayer, a greeting after years of separation. Yao knew the feeling of being lonely and away from _home_. His home … had long been so painfully empty when it used to be so loud and lively. He missed it. And the sound of relief in the voice … he understood it. But he could not guess who these people speaking were.

"I … wish I could go home too." The man sighed heavily, mostly talking to himself.

Maybe it was caused by his words but a door appeared in front of him with a large clover engraved on it. So it's his turn next? Yao felt a sudden satisfaction and excitement. Something in him was eager towards his challenge, like it would lead him to what he was most desperate for. If Yao had doubts before, he was certain now: This place would either be his grave or perhaps an eye-opener? After all, since when had he stopped to consider the lives of the people around him? When had he started to accept for granted life? When has time dulled his senses or reality that he would forget the kind of person he used to be? How did he forget … what did he forget?

Yao frowned for a second. What did he forget? And opened the door.

* * *

A large ocean spread itself on all sides beyond infinity. The sun rose slowly up in the east and tainted the sky of crimson red and the sea or a golden green. Walking on the lonely empty ship anchored in the middle of this scenery, Yao noticed the unusual large standing stones circling the ship. He was reminded of Stonehenge but the stones were larger and taller, more impressive and would stick out of the water like pillars of a prison, keeping the ship in its cage. An old model of ship. Yao recognised this one to date back from the years of discoveries by Europeans, the 16th or 17th century. You would not see one like that anymore, with its wooden structure and its large black sails … black sails? A shiver of dread ran down Yao's back. He looked up at the floating flag of the mats. A bleeding red flag. Just plain red. And he knew very well what it meant.

"Welcome aboard, Yao Wang. Nice of you to finally join us!" A heavy voice of man laughed as he walked out of his cabin. Hook's crooked grin widened as he noticed Yao's staring of his flag. "Oh? Is that fear I hear in the pulsing of your blood?"

Yao straightened his face and glared golden eye onto the laughing pirate. Because that was what the flag meant: Pirates attacking and the guaranty or a no-prisoner policy. Not a good sign to begin with.

"Where's …" Yao was interrupted by the sudden sound of water.

Both the nation and the Captain leaned over and watched at the blond figure emerging from the depth. She grabbed a rope and Yao heard the snapping of a blade as Hook cut another rope, leading to Alice getting pulled out suddenly and she swiftly let herself jump and land on deck, dripping wet yet smiling like she was having the best time of her life. Yao's eyes narrowed in shock at what the girl was wearing this time. Dressed in full punk attitude she even had red strikes in her golden blond hair and … was it just him or did her hair look longer than before? It now reached her shoulders and was as messy as ever … … where else had he seen similar hair?

She wore a black tight T-shirt with the sleeves torn off and a skull on the front of it. Her leather trousers were perfectly revealing her curves and she wore long black boots that reached to her knees with strings on the side and a metal sole with a thick heel all under the shoe but nothing feminine in it at all. Trinkets, chains and leather straps invaded her wrists, arms and a chocker surrounded her neck from which hung a heart-shaped pendant exhibiting the Union flag. Now Yao was not one for punk but he was amazed at how hot and desirable this woman was! And yet … she reminded him of someone else. He just couldn't remember who.

Alice turned her amused green eyes to the Captain then back at Yao and her smirk was cocky enough to finally jog the Chinese man's memory. He had seen that cocky smile so many times, how could he forget? And those teasing eyes … and that cruel attitude … that playfulness Alice showed in a game of life-or-death … those many resemblances … how could he not have realised …?!

"England …?" the man whispered.

Yao blinked as he suddenly found himself pinned to the ground with a blade pressed against his throat and a furious Davi Jones towering him, black eyes glaring a glare only a dead man could muster. A glare that would really send you to hell and can attest of it because he had already been there himself. A glare you do not want to face.

"Watch your mouth …" The man breathed rum and hatred over Yao's face but Alice's calm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Hook, that will be all. I'll give you back your ship in an hour."

"… I should …"

"In an hour, Jones." Alice's green eyes glowed dangerously and the man knew not to upset his mistress. He nodded and walked back to his cabin, never to be seen again for the next hour. He had left the ship.

Alice looked down at the stunned Chinese and smiled. It was a fake smile. A façade. A game. And Yao now clearly saw through it. But he didn't understand how he could see England through this girl. What was she? What was she in relations to Arthur?

"I believe it is time for our game, isn't it?" Alice smiled and sat down on the wooden deck, already drawing out her cards.

"Now then … what game shall we play?"

"What are the stakes?" Yao asked, seating himself opposite to her.

"Well, I thought your life and my life where enough? Do you want to be higher?"

Taunting, tease, lie. He heard it. He could call her bluff. But what if it wasn't a bluff. She might be crazy enough to be serious about this. Is it possible to kill a nation? Yao wondered. He wondered if anything was impossible in this crazy house.

"I've seen you take hostages. Which is mine?"

"Oh that! Well, it's just a way to pressure the game a little. Otherwise, we'll be there all night and frankly, I'm not as free as you may think. But in your case … who do you think?" Alice smirked and lifted her eyes up at the stones circling them. Yao looked up and was horrified to see hanging to a rope by the neck Japan. The younger Asian was still breathing but the look of terror on his face showed that he had no idea how he ended up in such a compromising situation. Supporting Kiku from being hung, five stone platforms ran down the pillars of the stone structure. Yao guessed that with time, each platform would break and the poor Japanese would end up hanging in the air, his neck broken and his heart frozen. Like an executed pirate.

Opposite to Kiku, Yao found a sleeping red-haired girl. She was unconscious and unaware of her situation. Yao could see a resemblance between her and Alice but he had no idea of who this ginger girl was. Wearing casual jeans and an emerald green sweater, her long straight ginger hair reached down her waist and floated in the wind like a mane of fire, cute freckles complimented her round face and Yao had a feeling that her eyes would be emeralds.

"Now will you stop thinking and maybe start playing? We only have an hour and time's running out." Alice casually spoke, hardly disturbed by the situation. Yao frowned then looked at the cards.

"I don't want cards."

Alice paused for a moment then tilted her head in confusion.

"Ok, then what?"

* * *

_Nobody is sure where or when Chinese dominoes came into existence, but they were reported by European travellers during the Renaissance and are still popular in Asian countries today. According to Andrew Lo, the earliest extant manual on dominoes is by Qu You (1347-1433) who wrote the "Xuanhe paipu" (manual of dominoes in the Xuanhe period 1119-1125). Also Xie Zhaozhe (1567-1624) mentions the legend of their invention in 1112. Even if these and various other references to domino playing in the 12th century are not to be trusted, they must certainly have been in use well before the early 15th century, when the first of these books was written. Note that there is no direct historical connection between Chinese dominoes and mah jong tiles. Mah jong tiles were developed in the 19th century as a more durable form of money cards, and both dominoes and mah jong exist in China in both card and tile forms._

_Chinese dominoes are different from the usual set of Western dominoes in many ways. About the only things they have in common is a relationship to the dice used in their cultures. However, the Chinese dominoes have a much stronger relationship, and use the same names for both dominoes and corresponding throws on two dice._

_There is a good chance that the tiles started as a way to record the throw of the banker in a popular dice game called Tien Gow ("Heaven Nine"). The game starts with a banker covering bets against other players and then throwing a pair of dice. The banker's roll or point, to use terms from Craps, is either in the Civil suit or the Military suit. The suits are sets of pairs which will be explained later. If the banker rolls the highest pair in his suit, he immediately wins all bets; if he rolls the lowest pair in his suit, he immediately loses all bets. Otherwise the dice are passed to the other players who try to roll a higher pair in the same suit as the banker; no money is exchanged on ties. You can see how this dice game influenced Pai Gow and other Chinese domino games._

_The tiles are longer and narrower that the "double square" shape used in the West. This is because the games played with them use the tiles like playing cards to build melds or like dice to make totals rather than to build chains of tiles on the table top. They have to have a shape which allows several of them to be held at once, so most pieces are about one inch wide and about two and a half inches long. They have no dividing bar in the centre to separate the two ends. The two ends are separated by either distance, clustering or colours. The games usually depend on the total number of pips and the suit (Civil or Military), so matching the ends are not as important._

_Following the convention of Chinese dice, the one pip and the four pip are always coloured red. The other pips are all coloured white, except for the double six. The double six separates the two ends by colouring three pips red and three pips white in each pip. Twos are shown as two white spots side by side (like Chinese dice) on the extreme end, not on a diagonal like Western dominoes and dice. Koreans sometimes use a large red spot for the one, again following the convention of Chinese dice. The three pips are usually shown as a diagonal, except on the double three dominoes, where the spots are sometimes laid out as two horizontal, two vertical and two horizontal groupings._

_Unlike Western dominoes, there are no blanks tiles in Chinese dominoes. The Western set has 28 tiles in the standard double six set; the Chinese set has 32 tiles. In most Western domino games, the total is not as important as the values on each half of the tile. The ranking, name, colouring and arrangement of pips of Chinese dominoes is based on tradition. The important things in the Chinese games are the total pips (usually taken modulus ten) and forming ranked pairs of tiles._

_Chinese dominoes are divided into two series - Military and Civil. These are the same series used in Chinese dice games and their ranking is not in numeric order. The Military series consists of ten dominoes, ranked by their totals as in dice games. Notice that there are no doubles in the Military suit. The Civil series is made of eleven pairs of identical dominoes. There are traditional names for the pairs and for each tile, much like the names that we assign to the throw of dice in a game of Craps ([1-1] is "snake eyes", [6-6] is "boxcars", [4-4] is a "hard eight") or in playing card games (the Jack of Spades and the Queen of Diamonds are a "Pinochle", A full house of Aces and Eights are the "Dead man's hand" in Poker, and so forth)._

* * *

Kiku prayed, grasping for air with difficulty as he felt the burning of the rope against his throat. He was tiptoing on the last of his five platform, the first four had broken down one after the other and he was minutes from losing his life. He was able to follow the game and was amazed at how the punk girl had so easily defeated all of Yao's plans and strategies. It's not so much that she knew the game before hand but she adapted to it and her mind was quick to react an even the tiniest of subtleties. Lifting worried black eyes across, Kiku saw that the sleeping ginger girl had still all of her platforms to support her. He had no idea who that person was but he could tell she was precious to Alice. He could tell because Alice was extremely careful in to avoid every trap and making any mistake. She was scared. She didn't show it but Kiku could see that through her calculative demeanour, Alice was making it a point to get that red-head back safe and sound and without a scratch.

The flip of a domino and Kiku heard the cracking of his last support.

He could see how panicked Yao was and how he struggled. How long has it been since the Chinese nation had shown this much concern for his sake? Kiku laughed at the absurdity of his situation. Of all the time for him to bond with his ex-brother, it had to be when he's seconds away to lose his life? Ironic. Yet Kiku had a hunch that all of this … was wrong. It felt wrong.

His pitch-black eyes narrowed on Alice and he was confused by her behaviour up until now. So far, she played fair and square and won. Yet not one of their fellow nations was dead. And even now, Kiku wasn't convinced that Alice aimed to harm them … it's more like she's … testing them. It felt like the girl was pressuring their minds into questioning things they didn't want to question. Like: How much would you be willing to die for?

Kiku hated to admit but he had nobody he felt this determined to die for. Unlike this girl. She clearly would die for that red-haired girl … but why? Who is Alice? And why did she constantly remind him of his friend Arthur? She reminded him of England but … but at the same time, something was different. Something was off. Something was … hidden. A secret. A mystery. A promise.

And Kiku was afraid of what that promise could mean.

Alice's emeralds looked up and crossed with Kiku's raven black ones. For a split second, the Japanese swore he saw sadness and guilt in the girl's eyes before he heard the crumbling of his last life-line and his feet dropped in the air.

* * *

When he hit the icy waters below, Kiku was amazed that he was still alive. He heard another crashing sound on breaking water and arms grip and pull him up. Coughing violently Kiku heard Yao's worried voice talk to him as his brother dragged him back towards the large ship. Looking up he saw the towering figure of Alice on deck and leaning over to watch them, her cold emerald eyes showed little more than acknowledgement of their existence. In her arms, bridal style, she held the still unconscious ginger.

"Yao Wang, you lost the game. You shall await your fate in this room. Farewell."

And with that, she walked away through the captain's cabin door on which the clover symbol appeared as the passage way led her to her last and final challenge … and the end of the game.

"Yao … I'm sorry."

"What? What are you saying, aru? I'm the one to have lost!"

"It's my fault … I suggested this game and made the teams and …"

"Kiku, none of it is your fault! Besides … I've only ever lost twice at this game. Once against you and another was against …"

"… England?"

* * *

**NA: Sorry for the wait! As you can see, I'm using those games to get you to understand Alice's identity. Some of you have already guessed it in the reviews you sent me. I didn't necessarily answered them all (Partly because I forgot but mostly because I'm lazy - sorry) but I appreciate every single one of them! Thank you all for your kind words and support! Anyway, next chapter is going to be with Feliciano and you can guess it's an important one!**


	17. Cold Hearts in Poker

**Chap 15: Cold Hearts in Poker**

Feliciano spun around in sudden panic as he realised that China was no longer accompanying him. He was alone. Alone and scared. The Italian started to shake uncontrollably and felt warm tears stream down his face as he hiccupped a few calls to which he hoped someone – anyone – would answer. Nobody ever did. Nothing existed beyond the darkness and this infernal staircase that seemed to drag you down into the pits of hell.

"_Feliciano, don't cry love! It's alright … see? I'm here!"_

"_Don't worry, it'll be alright. I'm sure Roma won't get angry at you. And if he does, I'll tell him it was my fault. So don't cry …"_

"_Come. Take my hand. It'll be fine, trust me."_

"_Trust me."_

Feliciano snapped his eyes open. When had he closed them? In his mind the vivid image of a young child with golden blond hair and a kind smile extending a hand to him seemed to have been burned in his memories, yet something was blocking it. He couldn't remember it fully and it was already growing blurred. In mere seconds, Feliciano had already forgotten what the child's face looked like, the colour of its eyes or the feel of its hand. He had all but forgotten and he didn't understand why. Why could he not remember those odd dreams? He kept having them repeatedly and yet not once did he ever remember them. All he had was blurry fragments and flashes of golden hair.

Blond.

That's all Feliciano had ever felt a recognition to. Blond. He liked blonds. He didn't know why but blond always drew his attention and attracted him. That's why he had fallen for HRE. The boy of his past was blond, sweet and adorable. But as they grew up, Feliciano had felt the distance between them grow and his lover had become something he didn't recognise. Someone he didn't understand. He still loved him … his handsome blond lover … but the ice blue eyes somehow felt wrong and off-putting. He didn't understand but Holy Rome … did not make Feliciano's heart leap. He loved him but it was a dull love forced out of habit and fondness.

The same occurred with Ludwig. The German was like HRE's reincarnation and Feliciano was so happy to have found his past lover that he didn't realise his pulse was not racing. He was happy. So what more was he expecting? What was he missing? What had he always been missing?

Something.

Something he couldn't remember. Something he should remember. Something he was scared to remember. And something he was not allowed to remember.

Feliciano wiped his tears away, realising that it was already his turn. He could only hope China had won as the Italian walked through the awaiting door with a heart shape on it.

A heart. Is that what he's missing? Whose heart?

Feliciano walked into the open space of a town. Not any town. A Roman town. No, this is … this is Rome! The old Rome! The Rome of his childhood! The Rome he loved and admired! And it was reproduced so well in its every details like the person who created it has actually lived there! In fact, Feliciano almost was afraid it was all real. But Nonno Roma is long dead, and so is this Rome. It can't be real. It can't. And Feliciano almost cried as he walked down the familiar streets. He recognised every fountain, every wall, every street … everything in detail.

His heart was leaping.

Why? Why was he feeling so excited? Yes, he loved this place. His childhood has been his happiest time alive but … thinking back, there are many things he couldn't remember from his childhood. But he felt his body react at the place and telling him that there was something there that he was missing. Something he had forgotten. Something important.

It made his pulse race.

As he turned around a corner, Feliciano bumped into the last person he expected to see. A loud curse confirmed his surprise and he jumped in delight and relief, wrapping his arms around the other's neck.

"Fratello!"

* * *

Lovino woke up to find himself in a familiar town. It took him a while and quite some wondering around for him to finally realise where he was. In Ancient Rome. The glorious city he was born in and was raised in by his grandfather. Lovino remembers well his grandfather despite not having spent as much time with him as Feliciano. He remembers him well enough to feel admiration and envy towards him but also resentment and hostility. Despite all of Feliciano's beliefs, Roma was far from being the wonderful grandfather you'd expect. Oh he was a great nation no doubt. But a terrible family man. He would leave his heirs alone in the big palace of Rome, subject to isolation, fear and constant assassination attempts while he went off towards his many conquests. He would return with too many wives to count them all and random kids he would take the charge of. Sort of. Romano remembers the way he and his brother were looked at by others. He remembers the hatred, the fear, the desire to kill them, he remembers how lonely he and his brother's lives had been.

Even with Roma around, things wouldn't get any less lonelier. The man always seemed to be busy. He would smile and pretend to care but as soon as you so much as blinked, his back was once again turned away. Romano had shown little skills in arts (he wasn't bad at it, far from it) in comparison to Veneziano. And Rome, despite being a warrior, was a huge fan of art. He often looked a Lovino with disappointment in his eyes and showed more interest in Feliciano. The Southern Italian had always hated that look from his grandfather. That judgemental look.

The Italian drowned deeper in his dark memories of the past as he eyes looked around the architectural beauty of the early stages of the now worldwide known Rome. It was exactly like in his memories. He remembers every bit of it, every corner, every shop, every aqueduct, everything. What he didn't understand was why his heart felt soothed and light. Why did he feel like he had walked those streets before and had felt something more than just sadness and anger?

A memory …

The soft brushing of a hand by his.

Romano spun around as he swore he had felt a shadow follow him but nobody was there. Shaking his paranoia away, the Italian walked around a corner and felt himself collide with a large object. Ve sounds reached his ears as he cursed and the sudden hug was no surprise to him by that point.

"Stupido? What the fuck are you doing here?!"

In the vestige of the once great capital of the Roman Empire, empty streets and quiet alleys, with no soul around but the voices of the dead, the Italian twins had returned to their heritage. Before the fire suddenly devoured them up.

* * *

Lucia Maria Vargas looked down in suspicion at the sleeping man in her tomato crops. Why had she not killed him yet? Well, because her pesky sister Dina Gabriela Vargas was too busy pocking the man's face with a stick and giggling carelessly.

"Seriously, Stupida, let me shoot him and solve everything!" Sicilia rolled her eyes and exasperation leaked in her words.

"But, Sorella, we won't know who he is and why he's sleeping in your crops if we do that!"

"And we won't need to anymore since he'll be dead!"

"But I wanna know!" Sardinia pouted stubbornly. You may think of her as calm and easy going like Feliciano but she was quite a stubborn piece of work and when she wants something, not even the cruel Sicily can change her mind. The Mafiosi girl shook her head, giving up already as she knew that when her sister spoke those words, it was wiser to let her have it her way. Or you'll regret it.

"Fine! Ma che! What is there to know about him? He looks like some random bastard who lost his way and fell asleep from dehydration! The idiot!"

"Non lo so … he looks familiar don't you think?"

"Che? Familiar how? He's Italian and …?"

"Sorella, help me get him inside!"

"Hell no! I am not letting some peasant inside my house!"

"But Sorellaaaaa! He looks really tired and he needs water!"  
"I don't care! Throw him in the river or something!"

"But he'll die!"

"Let him die!"

"Sorellaaaaaa!"

"FINE! Do what you want! Stupida Sorella!" Lucia growled and walked back inside her house, leaving her smiling sister to drag back the unconscious body of a young man barely looking older than 20, with dark curly hair long and dirty, a darkly tanned skin from years in the sun, and a very Mediterranean face.

* * *

"Ve! Fratello! Wha-what's going on! T-the f-fire …!" Feliciano's trembling voice sounded as weak as when he got those awful nightmares. Romano was not surprised. He had seen quite a few of Feliciano's nightmares and the burning down of Roma was always vividly present. Flames rising to devour even the Heaven, the buildings collapsing one after the other, and the earth itself turning pitch black and burnt for years to come, blood the only water it'll ever drink. Romano and Veneziano ran down the blazing streets. Among all this destruction, not a scream, not a shout, not a single voice was heard. Only the howl of the wind crying the city's agony as burns away to dust. The twins arrive at the grand coliseum and noticing the flames arriving on all sides towards them, Lovino pulled his brother inside the old circular building, shutting the heavy doors behind them. Neither of the twins noticed the heart shape carved in the large doors blocking the flames out. Flames raged outside but it seemed that for now, they would safe inside the arena.

Footsteps interrupted their soft sobbing and the Italians turned towards the opposite side of the arena, a metal grid lifted itself up and a figure emerged from the shadows of what Feliciano knew to be the prisons of the Coliseum. A cloaked figure approached them. Entirely covered in a black cloth, her body was one of a woman and under her cloak, Feliciano could see the bright emeralds shining maliciously. He knew this witch. It was …

"Alice?" The word was hesitant and hopeful … hopeful? Feliciano surprised himself at feeling excited to meet the mysterious blond woman.

The witch pulled out a packet of cards and a smirk greeted her lips.

"Now then, our last game … shall we?"

* * *

_Poker is a five-card vying game played with standard playing-cards. A vying game is one where, instead of playing their cards out, the players bet as to who holds the best card combination by progressively raising the stakes until either :_

_There is a showdown, when the best hand wins all the stakes ('the pot')_

_Or_

_All but one player have given up betting and dropped out of play, when the last person to raise wins the pot without a showdown._

_It is therefore possible for the pot to be won by a hand that is not in fact the best, everyone else having been bluffed out of play. One of Poker's earliest names was, in fact, 'Bluff'. Bluffing is as essential to vying as finessing is to trick-play. A five-card vying game is one where, no matter how many cards may be dealt to each player, the only valid combinations are those of five cards. In orthodox Poker these are, from highest to lowest:_

_straight flush (five cards in suit and sequence, Ace high or low, as AKQJ10 or 5432A)_

_four of a kind, fours (four cards of the same rank and one idler, as K-K-K-K-x)_

_full house (three of one rank and two of another, as Q-Q-Q-4-4)_

_flush (five cards in suit but not in sequence, as J-9-8-7-3)_

_straight (five cards in sequence but not in suit, as 10-9-8-7-6)_

_three of a kind, threes, triplet, trips (three of the same rank plus two of two different ranks, as 7-7-7-x-y)_

_two pair (as Q-Q-9-9-x)_

_one pair (as 3-3-x-y-z)_

_high card (no combination: as between two such hands the one with the highest card wins)_

_The highest possible straight flush, consisting of A-K-Q-J-10 of a suit and known as a royal flush, is sometimes added to the list in order to bring the number of combinations up to the more desirable ten, but of course it is not different in kind from a straight flush. Other five-card combinations, known as freak hands, are recognized in unorthodox Poker variants._

* * *

It was odd.

This game wasn't going like the others. For starters, there were no hostages, no seemingly deadly situation (if you count out the fact that the Coliseum is surrounded in flames), and Alice was inviting both Italians to her game. A three player game. That's more than odd.

Poker is one of the best choices in multiple player card games. Also the Italians are experts in such dark games, with bets and underhand corruption. They learned from a tyrant who believed that life was a game in itself, and if anything, Rome was a sever instructor. The Italians had learned to take a detached view on life and wars, never feeling quite involved and always opting for a retreat, scared of getting too deeply involved. They were afraid of letting themselves get too caught up in the game. So they retreat. And they run. And they hide. And pretend that it will all go away eventually.

Alice had pulled down her cloak covering her head but her body was still entirely covered in the thick material. It was nothing special, unlike her other outfits. It was merely a black cloak, as banal as anything. Unsettling when you come to see Alice as someone with a wide range of strange outfits. But neither Italian spoke a word about this. Their gaze hesitant and they constantly glanced at each other, while the calm woman looked at her cards with her usual cold expression, the perfect poker face.

The cards had not been magically made bigger or virtual like. They didn't have any fancy setting, not even seats. In fact, the three players had settled in a small circle on the ground at the centre of the arena, and played cards like beggars. It was so very odd.

"Deal." Alice spoke (she was the dealer for this round) and placed the dealing bid on the ground.

A set of old Roman coins of silver, copper and gold had been distributed among the three players as betting material. Romano came next. He picked up a copper coin. It was large and heavy and on it, Romano recognised the side portrait of the Cesar. The details in those coins … they almost felt like originals. But that can't be true! After all, this was all a simulation, wasn't it? Sure the flames outside had consistently raised the temperature of the arena such that it felt like they were being slowly cooked alive in the world's biggest frying pan, but it was only a very realistic simulation! Right?

He threw the coin as it added itself to Alice's. Feliciano was next.

The Italian stared at his cards, then at the one laid out on the ground for open use of the three players. In his hand: An Ace of Club and a Queen of Diamond. On the ground the three starting cards: A King of Hearts, a 7 of Clubs, and a 10 of Hearts.

Ace-King-Queen-10. All he misses is a Jack and his flush is complete.

Feliciano's face showed nothing of his internal excitement. In fact, his face was as relaxed and dazed as ever, you could even believe him to be dreaming of pasta. Next to him, Feliciano noticed Lovino's own frowning expression. Again, you could tell it was Lovino's face when he curses Spain or some other random nation just for the sake of being angry at someone. But Feliciano could see through his brother like a glass window. He saw the dark disappointment in his chocolate eyes and Lovino's hair curl was slightly, just slightly, crippled on the edge. He didn't have a good hand.

Feliciano looked back at Alice. Nothing showed her mind and thoughts. Calm, straight, expressionless, cold face. Beautiful face. But cold. Like a beautiful porcelain doll with empty eyes shining like jewels but denied emotions. Familiar eyes. So very green eyes. Emeralds. The exact same shades as Arthuro's eyes. Odd.

He followed, not raising the bet yet.

Alice placed her cards faced down on the ground but she wasn't giving up. She didn't need to look at her two cards anymore, having memorised them, and simply followed with another copper coin.

Lovino didn't hesitate, nor did he hurry. He didn't look at his hand, and didn't give up the round. He didn't need to. His brother would win. He knew it from the slight corner of satisfaction in Feliciano's idiotic smile. It may seem like the usual I-love-pasta smile but it wasn't. And Lovino had a guaranty that his brother would win. So he would support him.

He followed. Bluffing.

His chocolaty eyes followed Alice's hands as she revealed the 4th card on the ground. He didn't even look at the card, already knowing that he could not built up a suitable hand with his two 6s. Instead, he was looking at the way Alice's hands moved to flip the card. Long slender fingers on elegant hands … soft and gentle hands … he swore he had seen those hands before. A long time ago …

His eyes lifted up and crossed the vibrant emeralds. She smiled kindly. He blushed.

Green.

Lovino didn't know why but he had a soft spot for green eyes. That's why he had had a long lasting childish crush on Spain. That's why he had fallen for the warm Belgium in his growing up. And that is also why he had over more recent decades, grown to fall in an infatuating love for a moody Englishman. All because of those beautiful green eyes. Why green? He could explain it. All he knew was that it felt safe, warm, and familiar. He loved green. Especially those greens. Emerald greens so very much like England's.

Soon enough, it was once again his turn and Lovino hardly realised that he had spent the whole round staring at Alice's eyes instead of following the game. He noticed the bid had gone up to two copper coins. He followed and watched Alice flip one last card, completing the set of five on the ground from which the players can only choose three to complete their own hands.

Feliciano's eyes fell on the last card and he barely refrained from grinning excitedly like a child. Of the two newly turned cards: An Ace of Hearts and finally a Jack of Spades. His hand was set. His win almost guaranteed. Now all he had to do …

"All in." Feliciano threw in all of his coins. Romano quickly followed after him. With pressure from both the Italian players, they were surprised to see the girl smirk maliciously.

"You charge without thinking as always." She spoke like an older sibling advising her younger ones.

And she followed. All in. Now the hands were set and the fate of the game was one flip of cards away.

* * *

Feliciano blinked at the words.

_You charge without thinking as always._

He had heard those words before. He remembered them from Arthur's lips. And even before that he … before that? When had he heard those words before that?

Before that …

Before what?

Before … a memory …

* * *

_Fire._

"_Feliciano! Lovino! I told you to stop following me around!"_

_The two boys hid themselves in fear behind the tree as the blond haired child sighed and walked up to them. Suddenly appearing before them, her head popping out from the other side of the tree, the twin's chocolaty-amber eyes met the intense emerald ones of the golden blond girl._

_Definitely a girl._

_No questioning it, despite her shortly cut hair. She smiled at them fondly. A smile nobody had ever given them. Not even Nonno Roma. A smile that didn't show hate, or fear, or disgust. A smile innocent as they come with only one meaning on the red lips._

"_Alright! I'll take you with me but no complaining and no stopping every five minutes!" _

_Her high-pitched voice had yet to mature and could easily be mistaken as one of either gender. Just the voice of a child. Her clothes were slave clothes. For male slaves. Why? The twins didn't know and frankly, they didn't care. They nodded eagerly and followed after the young girl. For every one of her steps, they mimicked it. Never stepping too close and scared of falling behind. She stopped, noticed their fidgeting a couple of step back. Walked on, they followed. She stopped again, the same distance between them. She sighed and smiled warmly at them, extending both her hands._

"_Come on. And don't let go or you'll get lost."_

_The twins hesitated. Taking fearful small steps and reaching out to her hands, tipping it with their fingers like some new foreign object. Her smile grew and they both took the welcoming hands, smiling shyly back at her._

_And then came the fire._

* * *

"Feliciano!"

Feliciano suddenly woke up. Looking around him he felt like he was reliving a dream. He looked around at the fire. People had long left the surface and ran away. Nothing was left in the dead city. And nothing will be left by tomorrow but ashes and the painful memories. But even memories won't last. They never do. After a while, time erases even that.

Only Feliciano remembers. But he's the only one. And what future generation rediscover, he tries desperately to leave behind and forget. What people call History, he calls it memories. What people think of as far away, he dreams it every night, more vivid with every passing day.

Like the fire.

Burning everything.

Leaving nothing but ashes.

Feliciano pulled himself up as he heard his name being called once more. He meets the worried emeralds of his past and the same golden locks, but on a different face. Similar but different. Feliciano titled his head in confusion. He knew that person. But why … is that person … a man?

"Feliciano? Are you alright?"

French. He speaks French. Feliciano half expected him to talk in Latin. A rudimentary Latin with strange and foreign intonations. But his French is similar. It's French yet he spoke it with a foreign tongue and unfamiliar sounds. Feliciano felt his body being lifted up. His dirtied dress brushing against the hunter attire of the man.

"Honestly … France will get worried if you run off like that on your own!" The man scolded him and Feliciano felt himself shy away.

The blond must have noticed since his expression softened and his eyes grew kind. He sighed heavily, his thick eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looked down at the young Italian.

"I worry too, you know. If you want to come hunting with me, then tell me! Don't just follow me around like …"

He never finished his sentence, his green eyes staring into space as if gazing at his memoires. He shook his head, plastered a fake smile. Feliciano knew it was fake. He knew because that was the same kind of smile he always uses when he tries to hide his tears and his pain. But somehow, Feliciano feels unable to smile to this man. He can't pretend. He can't fake. He can't. He just feels unable to lie to this person.

Settling the Italian on his saddle, the blond climbed on his horse behind the Italian, wrapping a safe arm around the younger nation's waist while he took hold of the reins with the other. He settled the Italian against him and told him to hold on, like a princess being riding away with her prince charming. Except this was far from a fairy tale.

"Come on, let's head back to Paris. Next time, I'll take you with me, instead of having you sneak out to shadow me." The man chuckled as he kicked his horse and they rode off. "And next time, don't wear your dress. Dresses are not practical for hunting."

"Ve … but I don't have any other clothes." Feliciano found himself answering. He heard the man laugh. He liked his laughter. It felt refreshing and spontaneous, with an honest ring to it.

"That's surprising! Considering that you're a boy!"

"… I wish I were a girl." Feliciano again heard his own voice speak despite having not thought the words in his mind. It was like he was acting a part in film that has already been played over and over, repeating the words endlessly like they were planned in the script. Yet he recognised his own voice. Younger and still immature with that girly sound to it, but it was definitely his voice. The voice the young 15 year old blond answered him with was deep and cold. It sent shivers down the Italian's spine and as he scrutinised the man's face, all he saw was that cold mask and the invisible wall of ice that surrounded his heart. He wished he could break beyond that wall.

"You wouldn't like it. Not in this world."

Feliciano silenced as he understood the tone of the voice was not one to expand the conversation. They rode in silence, each lost in his thoughts and desires. Slowly, Feliciano leaned against the man's chest and sighed contentedly before letting his eyelids drop. His last thought wondered towards the blonde teen. If only he could burn down that wall of ice around the blonde's heart. If only he could make it melt.

_Fire._

* * *

"Feliciano! Feliciano! Wake up, dammit!"

The snappy worried voice made Feliciano bolt up and look around in panic. He had fallen asleep? Was he still dreaming now? He looked around, expected to see Paris, France greeting them back home, the blonde teen would carry him down the horse and inside the house, protective and caring as he always is, and Feliciano would giggle at the rising argument between Francis and …

"Arturo? Arturo!" Feliciano mumbled softly, his heart racing and his eyes searching for that mop of gold and those sharp emeralds. And he found them. Correction: he found the gold and the emeralds, but no Arthur. No England. That was not the same person.

But he knew who this was.

He was certain.

"A-Albion …"

* * *

The word fell like meteor hitting the earth. Romano's face turned to confusion and a deep frown creased his forehead as he tried so very hard to remember where and when he had heard that familiar name before. Feliciano also had struggled. He didn't know why but until just now, all his memories about Albion had been fuzzy and blurred if not lost and forgotten. It felt as if he had awoken from a very, very long dream and the obvious reality before him was now so clear he wondered how he had not realised it sooner. All those years, decades, centuries, all this time and not once had he wondered … not once had her name even crossed his mind … not once had her face ever broken past the memory of a golden blonde shadow. Why? How could he have possibly forgotten her? How could he have let her slip his mind?

And now that he remembered, things were growing so plain and obvious. He could hit himself for being so blind! To think he thought himself able to memories a face easily after seeing it once and to recognise it instantly! An artistic gift of his that he believed unfaultable! And yet all those times he talked, watched, met, even fought the nation known as England, not once did he realise how familiar his face was. All those unfinished paintings of shadows and people, blank face, but all of them with bright golden hair … how could he have just let them stack up in a closet for centuries, not realising that his model was long dead.

She had died.

That was what he had been told.

That was what Feliciano remembered.

Albion died.

England was born.

And he forgot Albion.

And he met England.

…

So why is she playing cards with him?

Feliciano's enquiring amber eyes narrowed on the cat-like green ones of Alice. Alice. He had never been told her human name, not even when they were children. He had always known her as Roman Britannia, Brit, or Albion.

The woman looked paralysed. Her body frozen and her poker face unwavering. Feliciano noticed the slight flaring of her nostrils and he could almost feel the pulsing of her heart. She lifted a cautious hand and flipped her cards. As she finally moved, her cloak slipped off her shoulders, accidentally revealing shackles at her wrists and the wear of a slave in Ancient Roman times. Her emerald eyes were colder than ever and the only emotion Feliciano could feel coming from this statue-like being was … fear.

Why?

"Straight Flush. I win."

* * *

Romano looked down at the cards in shock. He and his brother had flipped over their cards, revealing a perfect flush for Feliciano. A wide grin had found its way onto Lovino's face but as he turned to his brother, it was only to find him lying on the ground unconscious and muttering in panic. Another one of those nightmares. He was having them more and more frequently and it was starting to worry the older Italian. Even when bright awake and alert, Feliciano would occasionally collapse and have one of those memory dreams. Neither knew what they meant nor how to stop them.

All the while Alice had watched with her same cold expression. Not even worry shone in her eyes. She was like a doll, soulless and empty. Something Romano couldn't understand but somehow, he felt he had seen such an expression before on someone else. No, he knew exactly on whom he had seen this expression: Arthur Kirkland.

As quickly as he had fallen asleep, Feliciano woke up. He looked lost and confused but his eyes rapidly came to settle on the blonde girl. One word. One word was enough for Romano to feel his brain split in half and a surge of blurred memories to rise up from god-knows-where!

"A-Albion …"

Albion.

Albion.

Albion.

He knew that name.  
Albion.

He knew that girl.

Albion.

He knew that nation.

Albion.

He knew exactly what nation she is and where it's located.

Albion.

Alice.

Arthur.

England.

How … how could he … forget? How could he not have remembered and recognised her? How could have so much as forgotten even her existence. How could he not have questioned the odd reality that he didn't know what was before England? How could he not have seen her in him? He observed him for so long, he had even felt in his heart how familiar those emerald eyes were to him. And he was never able to see her. Or him. Or both. He didn't understand what was going on anymore! And his head felt like exploding! All those memories, realisations, thoughts, it was all so confusing and painful! Fuck!

And then, Alice showed her cards.

A Queen of Hearts and a Jack of Hearts.

Ace-King-Queen-Jack-10 and all of Hearts.

"Straight Flush. I win."

* * *

"_If life were a game … you'd lose."_


	18. The Grand Hall's Gathering

**Chap 16: The grand Hall's gathering**

* * *

_Time is really just an illusion. It goes by many names and concepts because it is impossible to define. Easily manipulated and changed. What was can also be considered as what is but also what will be. It all depends on the perspective you take. The present of one is the past of another yet to be and the future of those waiting behind. It's tangible and uncertain, with an infinite possibilities and an infinite choice. It doesn't flow like a river the way people believe. It's much more complicated than that. Time can swap, turn, twist, jump, freeze, drop, and another infinite things. It's not fixed and what existed can always return. Or what was can be rewritten. What will be can never happen. Nothing is more uncertain than Time as it circles around in endless loops like a never ending roller-coaster._

* * *

"I so love roller-coasters!"

Alistair looked away from his morning newspaper and shot lifting eyebrows at his sister. The young girl giggled in amusement as she hummed in front of the telly.

"Where'd that come from?"

She looks up in surprise and blinks confused emerald eyes at him, brushing away her straight curtain of ginger hair from her face.

"Where did what come from?"

"That roller-coaster thing. What was that about?"

"What are you talking about?" the 18 year old looking girl frowned, her cute round face crunching up in irritated confusion and her cheeks puffing up making her freckles more prominent.

"You just said something about roller-coasters." The Scotsman shrugged, furrowing his furry eyebrows, as confused as his sister.

"I did? Oh! That was probably … uh. I don't know actually. You know that feeling when you say stuff and then you can't remember why you said it?" She tapped her lips in wonder.

"Don't hurt your little grey cells thinking too much about it. In this house we all go a bit weird anyway." Alistair spoke with his deep wise tone (trying to sound important but none of his siblings buy it).

"Yeah! It's a wonder how Arthur hasn't gone bonkers after all those years!"

"He has. Years ago."

"But so did we."

"Aye, so did we. Could you turn down the volume? I'm trying to keep meself informed about the world here!"

Fiona Kirkland chuckled and instead increased the volume as the theme song of Doctor Who ran over the screen. Her brother growled in irritation and crushed his paper in frustration but didn't stop her from enjoying her film. Somehow, he could never get mad at his cheeky devilish ginger haired sister. Northern Ireland just had that kind of cute personality, cheerful and adorable, that you almost would feel like a criminal for trying to yell at her. So he simply watched with her as the Doctor and his assistant rushed into a new troubled place in space at another troubled period in time.

"Hey, aren't you going hunting the house like you did last week? What was that all about anyway?" Fiona detached her eyes from the screen and frowned at her brother in mischief and curiosity.

"Some random bastards broke in. William thinks."

"Did you find them?"

"Well, we tried looking for them but either they left or the house is interfering."

"Why would the house interfere? I though you owned the place!"

"I do. Sort of. It does have a mind of its own most of the time."

"Soooo?"

"So nothing. Didn't find anything and I'm not wasting my holidays on them. If they show up, I'll kill them in due time. If not, they'll probably die here anyway. Unless the house proves itself benevolent to them, they won't stand a chance."

"I guess … Do you think Arthur knows?"

"If she does, she's hiding it. And if she's hiding them, then I probably won't find them."

"Why would she hide them? Who would be here anyway? Nobody ever comes to visit us! And I hardly doubt other nations would care enough to visit!" Fiona rolled her eyes and bitterness rang in her voice.

"Maybe she wants to keep a grip with reality. It's pretty stressful here on her mind." Alistair mused, his mind wondering to his other sister with golden blond hair.

"I know … I'm already getting headaches and I've only been here for a few days. Actually … I don't remember what I did yesterday … … it kind of feels blank … like I was asleep all day … Did I sleep all day?"

"How should I know?" Alistair mumbled, suddenly glued to the episode and not really paying attention to his sibling anymore.

"Never mind, Eejit!" Fiona rolled her eyes but a large smile broke her face.

The both stayed quiet and stared at the moving images on the screen. Neither was actually watching or they would have noticed that the film had long ended. They were too engrossed in their own thoughts to realise the credits running down the screen.

"Al, where's Arthur?"

"Somewhere. She said she had a few things to settle before lunch. Why?"

"She took Bunny's clock."

"Eh?" Scotland's eyes suddenly narrowed on Northern Ireland, wide in surprise.

"I wanted to borrow it myself but Bunny had already given it to Arthur … well, Alice, same thing."

"Why would she need that? More to the point, why did _you_ need it?"

"I wanted to check back in time what I was doing yesterday. It feels like I just lost a day and it kind of pisses me off."

"It pisses you off. Just that? … Sometimes, I seriously question our family's sanity." The crimson haired man shook his head and sighed heavily.

"Well, let's see: We have a time manipulating clock, a demonised rabbit butler, ghosts of the craziest people in History wandering around, a living castle in a breach in-between space, a dead writer that is curiously enough still alive (and mad), a bubble world for us to use as a hide-out for our brother who's in fact our sister and is supposed to be long dead and forgotten. I say, yeah, crazy's fun and sanity's boring!" Fiona smirked malicious as he counted on her fingers. "All we're missing is a sonic screwdriver! I so want one those!"

"Very funny, cheeky bugger."

"I thought so. We could always just tell the truth and stop hiding behind lies and illusions."

"… It's Arthur's decision."

"But really? We could at least break the gender seal? I miss not having Alice! I don't have someone to go out shopping with!" The girl whined.

"If it's just shopping, you could go out with other female nations …"  
"Get real, Scotty! I don't know any female nations and the few I do know think that I'm some kind of crazy person because I can see fairies when they can't! I hate it!"

"Well, now you know what Arthur has to deal with at every world meeting!"

"I know! It's frustrating! I hate how people label you as crazy just because we see things they don't! And nobody wants to be friends with a crazy person! Plus I'm violent which doesn't help!"  
"Do you ever stop complaining? I'm trying to read the news here!" Alistair mumbled as he tried to unfold and straighten the crushed newspaper he had earlier. His green eyes narrowed suspiciously on a particular small article but he dismissed it fairly quickly.

"S'odd." He did mumble and caught Fiona's curiosity. She glanced over his shoulder and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"What is?"

"See here? It says Half of Europe has gone down into some sort of freezing mode … their economy and politics … it's like government just stilled."

"Well, probably politicians arguing with each other and unable to come to an agreement. Parliament is like that all the bloody time."

"Aye, probably. I just have that feeling you know …"

"Like what?"

"… Like something is going on and that if I knew what I would be seriously angry."

Fiona laughed at her brother's frustrated grouchy face.

"Well, maybe it's a good thing that you don't know then! Do you like getting angry?"

"No, but I don't like not knowing what's going on!"

"What's going?" An older female voice suddenly asked as Alice walked in the room, wearing her new blue dress and catching both her siblings' attention. Fiona jumped and started to skip around her, looking down at the new dress she had carefully selected for her sister.

"Arthur! You look super cute in that dress! You should get more! Ah, sorry! I meant Alice! Force of habit!"

"Fiona, I am not a doll for you to play with so stop jumping around me, you're making me dizzy." Alice spoke exasperated but a smile cornered her lips. She looked up at her brother and went to join him on the settee. Fiona was quick to prop herself on her older sister's lap.

"So, what were you saying was going on?"

"That's the problem here … I don't know!" Alistair rolled his eyes and was utterly amazed at how pointless his conversations with his siblings could be. They really talked about the most random and ridiculous topics sometimes.

"If you don't know, don't torture your mind over it, love!" Alice smiled and her brother swore she had that mysterious and knowing glint in her emerald eyes. He knew she was hiding something. But he also knew that his stubborn sister would never tell him unless she wants to. So he let it be.

"You drive me crazy, lassie."

"I'm good at that." Alice chuckled, stroking her younger sister's hair tenderly.

* * *

Feliciano felt himself waking up once more. He really is lost in this place and feels like all notion of time is meaningless! How many times has he woken up in this mental place? How many hours or days has he been asleep? How long has he been stuck in this haunted castle? How long have those games been going on? What time is it? What day is it? What month is it? Are they even still alive?

Looking around, Feliciano realised he and his fellow nations have all been gathered in one single room. Fairly normal looking … for once. It really looked like an average music room. A small stage up ahead with old red curtains neatly tied up. A grand piano on the stage. Various instruments or all shapes and sizes lined up or sprawled out across the rest of the room, leaving only a large circle space in the middle of the room where all the sleeping nations were gathered. On the walls, guitars, violins, flutes, and others hung elegantly and if Austria was here he would be in paradise.

But there was no sign of Alice.

Or that strange butler dressed in white.

Or those weird creatures and monsters.

Or ghosts.

Or … or … or anyone for that matters!

Feliciano wandered around the room, he tried waking the others up but none responded even when he screamed in their ears. It's like they were in a coma. Or a really deep sleep. Giving up, Feliciano did the most reckless and idiotic thing one can do in this castle. You'd think he would have learned by now, but the Italian grew so bored that it chased away all fear and common sense.

He went exploring.

He really did.

This place really does tend to make you ignore common sense. Even when you know that leaving the safety of that music room could lead to your eminent death. He was seriously bored. Bored beyond bored. And lonely. And … let's explore!

* * *

Feliciano soon realised that his idea might not have been the brightest yet. He realised that while he stared through one of the many rooms in this castle at a cricket game between … dwarfs? Dwarfs play cricket? Feliciano shut the door almost immediately. Ok, next one! Uh. Maybe not. Feliciano just barely managed to shut the door as he heard the loud banging and screeching sounds. He wasn't even sure of what had been inside but he didn't want to risk another look and with a hurried jump to his feet, he walked down the large maze-like corridors of the live-castle.

"Arthur! We're leaving! Be back in a few days alright? You rest until then!" a loud boasting voice resonated across the entire fort.

Feliciano jumped. He didn't recognise the loud voice but he was certain of one thing. That person was calling Arthur. But Arthur was not the one to answer. As he heard hurried steps approach, a basic survival instinct made Italy duck and search for a hiding place. His eyes fell on the unusually very normal-looking blue door. He pulled on the handle, heard a clinging sound and didn't even notice the crystal lock that he broke as he opened the door and hid himself in it. He watched, and saw, to his amazement, Alice jumping down the stairs, a golden clock in her hand. The stair case vanished under her feet and yet she didn't fall and still kept walking through mid-air.

Her hair looked much longer than before and if anything, Feliciano realised that the only notion of time he had was the length of Alice's hair changing each time he saw her. Now her golden locks reached down to her waist and were tied up into two side-ponytails. She wore white shorts over her stripped black and blue tights. She had long nice legs despite her short size. And her curves were more and inviting as she moved around in a black hoodie with the silvery design of wings in the back. Feliciano stared at her, bemused. She looked … not at all like the mysterious persona of the games. Just like … a girl. Any girl. A very pretty girl with a delicious body. A girl that looked so much like Arturo and as deliciously attractive as him. Talking of Arturo, Feliciano glanced around, hoping to see the man that made his heart pound all the time. He was certain that the voice had called for Arthur. So why was he seeing Alice answer?

As she played with her golden pocket watch, Feliciano felt a chill run down his spin, like a gust of wind or a feeling of déjà wash over him. Seconds later he heard the boasting voice once more.

"Arthur! We're leaving! Be back in a few days, alright? You rest until then!"

What?

Feliciano watched in confusion and disbelief as Alice smiled and jump the last of empty air between her and the floor. She waved to someone by the front door before rushing to them.

"Hold up! Fiona, love, you didn't forget anything, did you?"

Another woman's voice giggled and answered back.

"I think I'm old enough to take care of myself, Sis! Besides, you should probably check Al's stuff rather than mine!"

"Oi! What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nah, I don't bother anymore. He always forgets something every damn time!" Alice answered back exasperatedly but Feliciano heard the tease in the back of her voice.

"Shut up the both of you! What did I do to the gods to get pesky sisters like you?"

* * *

"Oi! Don't fuck up work while I'm not here! It'll be hell to pay otherwise once I'm back to normal!" Alice slapped her brother's shoulder and Alistair burst in a loud laugh.

"Aye aye Captain!"

"It always feels like ages when you're like this." Fiona grumbled again. Alice smiled tenderly to her sister and brushed back a few of her straight strands of hair out of the round freckled face.

"I'll be back to normal in a few days, love! Besides, I've got something to keep me busy until then."

"Keep you busy? What exactly are you referring to, lass?" Alistair's suspicious emeralds narrowed on his sister but Alice only shook her head innocently, devious smile on her lips. Yep, she's definitely hiding something from him!

"Just stuff to do! Come on, you two, you'll be late for work and I swear if I get a call from Parliament that you fucked up something or another, I am coming over straight away! Quarantine or not!" She laughed and in a short snap, the doors were shut, leaving Alice alone once more in that huge mind-blowing house.

She walked down the corridors, absently. Her body was already starting to feel weary and occasionally painful. She scratched her shoulder, her fingers tracing the intricate Celtic knot carved in her flesh through the black material of her clothes. It wasn't burning yet. She still had a few days. And holidays were over. Perfect. She just wasted her holidays locked up here. Again. It's getting annoying this little charade. But Alice still kept it up, not once wanting to end this. It's too much of a risk.

She froze suddenly and her eyes stared blankly at the shut blue door. Nothing unusual. But she had a feeling that something really bad just occurred and usually, when Alice gets this feeling, it always proves itself right. She grabbed the handle, the crystal lock chimed but didn't break. Good.

And she walked away, humming to herself as she already planned her next outfit. So she did Pirate, Witch, Druid, Punk, what else is there? She glanced at her golden watch. Time was on her side. Always. Her fellow nations wouldn't wake up until late tonight. Maybe she'll just wear her dress? After all, why not? It's not like any of them will remember her by next week!

Alice chuckled and let her feet guide her to the music room, her clock ticked faster. Much faster.

* * *

_Time is really just an illusion._

* * *

The crystal lock on the blue door chimed once more. And the clocks ticked. Faster. And faster. The arrows moving very wrongly and yet nothing went noticed. Because even the impossible is a normality here. So clocks going backwards? It's just another odd mistake.

That shouldn't have happened.


	19. It's a secret What is?

**Chap 17: It's a secret. What is?**

Arthur sipped his tea, standing alone in his living room in his flat in London and staring down at the crowd of nations gathered on his living room floor all fast asleep. He calmly walked to take a nearby seat and waited, book in hand and tea in the other.

The clock ticked.

Slowly.

As it always does.

Hours past and eventually, nations started to wake up one after the other. All looked around in panic and their eyes could not have shown bigger relieve as they finally … FINALLY found Arthur Kirkland-England. FINALLY! America shrieked in joy and jumped to hug-crush his ex-caretaker but Arthur swiftly avoided the incoming attack out of habit. His emerald eyes were cold and scolding as they over-looked the group. Suddenly, the nations felt themselves shrink under his glare and they remembered exactly all the breaking in and the more-or-less illegal tracking down of Arthur.

"My office. All of you. _Now_." His icy words snapped in the air and chilled everyone in the room as they diligently followed the Englishman to his office room.

* * *

Arthur tapped his fingers against his desk, staring inquisitively at the group of nations in his office. His emerald green eyes were as cold and calculating as ever, not showing any of his thoughts. Stern expression, the only thing that showed England's disbelieving surprise was the lifted thick eyebrow.

"Let me get this straight." The blond Englishman finally spoke, breaking the tensed silence. He poured himself a glass of whisky from the bottle he kept in his desk draw.

"You organised a last minute meeting on America's whim. And because I didn't answer back, you assumed I was in danger and went looking for me, despite knowing that I was on _holiday_. You illegally tried to track my phone, went to bother my Prime Minister and my Queen, you broke into all of my and my siblings' houses and my office, and finally you blackmailed Leon and Victoria into guiding you to our Union house …"

"Yo! Dude, that's not true! We didn't blackmail them, they both agreed to help and then they changed their minds!"

"Aiya! If anything, they were the ones blackmailing us!"

"Si! You should educate that son of yours better!"

"Excuse me, aru? Your daughter is the one who kept influencing Hong!"

"Ve … let's not fight …"

"Kesese, no, let's!"

"Oh la la … not again."

"My daughter wasn't the one with videos of you getting blowjobed by Korea!" Spain smirked victoriously.

"Well, my son didn't take pictures of you in a maid's outfit after getting out-played by Portugal in a bet!" China replied darkly.

"Well, my daughter is not a pyromaniac blackmailer gangster!"

"Yeah, you're right! She's just a barbaric sea witch whore of a pirate!"

"Well at least she does have a sex life unlike your son! Which is surprising coming from a Chinese whore who'll be willing even in his sleep!"

"Just because my son doesn't go around fucking everything with a pulse like your daughter, doesn't mean he is deprived! It's called having standards! But you wouldn't know since your arse is reputed to have made the tour of Europe at least 50 times!"

"My daughter is a respectable lady and her standards are to fuck only the best of men! I bet your son doesn't even fuck women! He's an emotionless, mentally disturbed, cold hearted and sex-deprived bastard!"

"As opposed to your daddy-complexed, alcoholic, violent, prostitute of a daughter with a mouth as foul as Lovino's if not worse! I'm not surprised since you raised both! And you can't even get respected by her!"

"At least Victoria can speak her mind when she needs to! Your son never even shows affection or respect! Can you even get him to talk to you? Oh, I'm sorry, I bet you don't talk! I bet he's too busy blowing up your house with dynamite!"

"It's firecrackers! It's harmless!"  
"Doesn't sound harmless in the way you always complain about it!"

"Because you never complained about your daughter? About how she spends more time at your brother's place than yours? What poor parenting! No wonder she turned out a whore!"

"Is it my fault your kid is a calculating cold hearted monster?"

"It definitely is your fault that your daughter is a violent, alcoholic, whore of a pirate!"

"YOUR SON IS A BASTARD WHO DOESN'T EVEN SPEAK YOUR LANGUAGE!"

"AS OPPOSED TO YOUR DAUGHTER WHO CONSTANTLY REFUSES TO JOIN YOUR NATION? FEELING INSECURE, SPANIARD?"

"INSECURE? WOULDN'T THAT BE YOU? SCARED OF LOSING YOUR SON TO ARTURO IF YOU GAVE HIM INDEPENDENCE?"

"YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A CHANCE OF GETTING YOUR DAUGHTER BACK SINCE SHE'S ALL EYES FOR ARTHUR ANYWAY! JEALOUS OF YOUR OWN DAUGHTER, PIRATE?"

"I AM NO PIRATE!"

"YOUR DAUGHTER IS!"

"WELL, YOUR SON IS A PYROMANIAC GANGSTER!"

"BETTER BE THAT THAN THE WHORE OF EUROPE!"

"WHY? BEING THE WHORE OF ASIA SUITS YOUR BASTARD BETTER?"

"DON'T YOU DARE …!"  
"SI? WHAT WILL YOU DO?"

"I'll bloody murder both of you fuckers, rip off your balls and feed them to you before cutting you to tiny pieces, feed you to Wales' dragon and then drag you back from hell to do it all over again if I hear another ill spoken word about my children. Do I make myself clear?"

China and Spain froze at the eerie cold voice of the furious blond. Arthur hadn't raised his voice but the fire in his emeralds was enough of a threat. Every nation took an instinctive step back while the Englishman poured himself another whisky. He noticed his bottle was nearly empty. He'll have to ask Al to bring him some more next time.

"As I was saying …" Arthur took a sip before continuing.

* * *

_Feliciano hurriedly shut the door as he watched Alice walk past him. He listened to her footsteps stop and the door handle being pulled. As he was certain that the door would open and he would be met by Alice's emerald glaring eyes, all he heard was a chime and a satisfied huff from the girl before she walked away._

_Weird._

_Feliciano tried pulling on the door once more._

_It wasn't locked. At all._

_He walked out, ignoring the chime of the crystal lock, and hurriedly shut the door behind him, rushing away through the confusing corridors of the castle and hopefully getting to the music room before Alice does._

* * *

_As he realised how lost he was in this maze of corridors and stairs, Feliciano walked into the 1 511 room. He didn't even know how long he has been wandering aimlessly inside the walls of this castle but it had probably been ages. Time seemed to freeze here. Or go too fast. Or too slowly. Or backwards. Or sideways. How can time go sideways? Feliciano mulled over that last thought as he opened the 1 512th door and was agreeably greeted by a normal elegant bedroom._

_The walls were clean white with silver design of large flowers, curling leaves, twisting and intermingling with one another. The furniture was all wood and old fashioned but elegant and with an authenticity that Feliciano's expert eyes could assess. All of these were originals from decades ago. Beautiful workmanship. Feliciano felt drawn into the room. He didn't know why but the smell of it felt familiar. He looked down at the large King-size bed with a deep crimson cover. Without another thought, the Italian plopped himself onto the bed and lay down lazily._

_There was that smell again. Very familiar._

_Fresh and addictive._

_It reminded Feliciano of rainy forests, salty sea waters, subtle hints or roses and mint._

_He loved it._

_Opening lazy half-lidded eyes, the Italian let his gaze trail over the vast room. He noticed a door leading to an en-suite toilette and was certain to find a beautiful ceramic white decorum for the bathroom. Chuckling, the Italian looked at the various picture frames hanging from the walls. Some were paintings but most were photographs. He noticed the same faces constantly returned but each time in different time frame and wearing different fashions. He was amazed at how many emerald eyes he could see covering the walls._

_His mind wandered back to Arturo. He hadn't seen him. Why? He was certain Arturo was here but where? And why did he see Alice show up every time? It's almost like … like seeing a ghost when looking for a living person! Feliciano felt a pain course through his heart. He was glad to finally remember, even though his memories were still a bit fuzzy, he was glad to finally see Albion again. But why was she declared dead? No, that's not it … she wasn't declared anything. She just ceased to exist. And vanished not only from the earth's surface but from everyone's mind. And England … somehow, Arturo has just … always been there. No questions asked. Feliciano never even wondered how old Arturo really is. He never wondered why he could remember France from their Roman times but not Arturo or any of Arturo's siblings. Why?_

_Feliciano turned his body over, sighing heavily and breathed in the gentle scent to calm his buzzing mind. As he stared blankly in front of him, his eyes spotted something particularly familiar. On the dressing table, next to an empty tea mug, a pile of books and a pair of working glasses, Feliciano felt his eyes widen at the view of the Venetian mask._  
_Black. Wing shaped. With pearls and chains on one side. A large sapphire-like stone on the forhead._

_That's Arturo's mask!_

_No, that's the mask that strange girl at the ball wore!_  
_Wait, does this mean … Alice was at the ball?_

_Questions after questions hunted Feliciano's mind. But he got interrupted by the shuffling sound of footsteps growing ever so near. He quickly jumped out of bed and hid underneath it in sudden panic as the door of the room opened. And quickly regretted it as he saw a large overly-grown golden lion fast asleep at not far from him at the foot of the bed._

_The beast looked like a lion and was definitely alive from the heavy quiet breathing. But it was huge. Almost twice the size of a normal lion! It blinked a lazy emerald eye open and then went back to sleep upon seeing his mistress. From the corner of its eye, the lion lazily shot a disinterested stare at the Italian hiding under the bed. He probably didn't feel threatened and so didn't bother with the intruding nation. Falling back to a deep sleep, the lion purred at the soft petting of his mistress as Alice stroke his large thick golden mane._

_Alice then walked to her wardrobe and Feliciano felt himself blush as he saw her change clothes. She pulled out a long blue dress and Feliciano recognised the dress she had worn at the ball. Soon enough the masked Cinderella was back and smirking at herself. She pulled out a golden pocket clock and played with its handles._

_"Time to forget." She smiled. A real smile. So soft and so sad that it broke Feliciano's heart to see it._

* * *

_Feliciano blinked and found himself back in front of the girl on that night at the ball. The exact same day and at the exact same time._

_Only, the girl was nowhere to be found._

_Nothing._

_He tried asking around but nobody ever remembered having seen a girl in a blue dress and black mask._

_She was already just a memory of a forgotten dream. An existence long erased and never to be remembered._

_Feliciano felt a shiver run down his spine and he fainted. As all faded to darkness, and the voice of his panicked brother reached his ears, Feliciano swore he saw Arthur from the corner of his eyes. The blond was supposed to be sick at the time and yet, Feliciano was certain that this was Arthur … behind a black wing-shape mask._

* * *

…

"And that's when I found you asleep in my flat. Is that all?"

They nodded. Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Do you really expect me to believe this? This is even worse than Alfred's poor excuse of an alien abduction. A girl in a castle playing games? Really? If there was such a thing in my land, don't you think I would know about it? What I think is that you guys had way too much to drink. I can smell the alcohol anyway."

"Ve! But the girl gave us stuff to drink too! So that's why …"

"Right I forgot! Magic potions to make you shrink and cupcakes to make you grow! Of course! Have you all been reading Alice in Wonderland? Next you're going to tell me that you fell through a rabbit hole!"

"But Arthur …"

"Enough! First off, you people don't believe in magic so why are you all suddenly trying to convince me of a tale that even I think is utterly ridiculous?! And you blame me for having crazy hallucinations?"

"But Angleterre … there really was a …"

"Yes, yes! And her name was Alice and she drank tea with the Mad hatter, the Red Queen and the White Queen! Of course!"

"… Actually, dude, she did!"

"Get out." Arthur growled, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

Slowly, one after the other, all of the nations left the room. Arthur's cold expression changed to a teasing smirk as he brushed a hand in his recently cut hair. He cleared his paperwork away and glanced out his window, glass of whisky in hand.

"Guess that could have gone worse." He nodded to himself with a satisfied grin.

In a year's time, nobody will remember. It will all just be like a hazy dream, a distant memory, a story soon to be turned into a legend as far from the truth as it can get.

And just like any story, given enough time, it will be forgotten.

Not even a memory.

* * *

A few days later, Arthur woke up but not at the sound of his alarm clock. Instead he glared at the unknown caller on his phone. At his feet, the low irritated growl of his pet told him that the lion was unhappy to have been woken up. But Arthur was the most unhappy of the two.

"Who is this? Do you have any bloody idea of what time it is?" Arthur growled as he glanced at his clock to see the annoying arrows pointing at 4:35 in the morning.

"A-ah! Arturo! Scusi! I didn't mean to upset you! I'm sorry! Please don't kill me!"

"Italy?" Arthur groaned and washed his hand over his face, forcing himself to calm down. He knew the Italian had a couple of hours of difference with him (in winter) and could only suspect his fellow nation to have forgotten that small (big) detail.

"Si! I'm sorry! I'll be good! I won't bring pasta to the next meeting! Please don't kill me! Don't make me eat your food! I'll make you pasta next meeting! I'm sorry!"

"What do you want, Italy?" Arthur interrupted the usual panic ramble of plead of the Italian. He almost smiled at how ridiculous Italy's excuses were but his smile never reached his ears. He felt a painful needle of regret sting his heart. Italy was still afraid of him. That never would change. He used to be so close to the Italian in the past … Arthur shook his head. That last holiday had really gotten to his head. He needs to stop thinking about the past for now!

"Arthuro? Are you still there?"

Eh? Oh yeah, Italy. He must have been rambling on and Arthur realised he hadn't listened to a word the Italian had spoken.

"I'm sorry, Italy. Why did you call?"

"Ve! I just wanted to ask you something."

"And it couldn't wait until later today? Say in the afternoon?"

"Ve? But I wanted to ask you as soon as possible but Fratello said that calling you last night at midnight was a bad idea and would make you angry. So I waited until morning! Did I do bad?"

Arthur never ceased to be amazed by Italy's clueless innocence. Sure midnight would have been just as bad but the lad really needed to learn the concept of time-differences!

"Nevermind. What did you need me for? The next meeting isn't until a couple of weeks."

"Si! I know! Germany keeps reminding me because he says I forget all the time!"

"That's nice. Now what did you want?"

"Ve? Oh yes! I wanted to ask you … uh … Can dead people come back to life?"

"What?" Arthur barely registered the question. Partly he was too tired and partly because of how random and absurd it was.

"Ve! I wanted to know, do you have a lot of dead people in Alice's castle?"

"Oh … you're still on about that dream?" Arthur frowned. He tried to sound patronizing but to be honest, he was surprised that Italy still remembered the dream. Overnight, Arthur was sure to have cast a memory spell on every person involved in Alice so that they would forget by morning.

"Dream? Oh it wasn't a dream! I know because I remembered! But I don't really understand, Arturo! How can dead people come back?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ve … Fratello completely freaked out when he saw and Sicilia and Sardegna both looked confused! I really don't understand either but I think you can help Arturo!"

"And why am I most likely to be able to help with whatever problem you have?" The riddle was starting to make him curious and Arthur really struggled not to let his excitement and curiosity seep through.

"Ve? Because Arturo always helped me before! Even when I forgot Alicia, Arturo didn't hate me. And you know a lot of stuff about magic too!"

"I guess I do … wait, what was that about helping you? And Alice? What are you …?"

"Ah! I have to go! I'll ask you during the next meeting Arturo! Fratello is really getting angry because he got woken up too early! I have to go make coffee! And pasta! And pizza! Ciao Alicia!"

Arthur blinked as he listened to the beeping sound of the phone.

Alicia.

He called him, inadvertently no doubt, but he called him Alicia.

Looks like one person still remembered Alice.

That's not what was planned.

"I think, I'm in trouble, Aslan." Arthur mumbled but his lion only glanced questioningly before rolling on his back, exposing his tummy and purring at his master's rubbing of the soft fur.

"Al is going to kill me."


	20. The Joys of Normality - Well, almost

**Chap 18: The Joys of Normality … well, almost.**

In his office in London … in _her_ office in London, Alice couldn't begin to concentrate on her paperwork. Her mind was playing over and over the words of the Italian nation over the phone earlier this morning. Of all the blasted people, Feliciano had to be the one to remember the incident at the castle?! Well, it won't be long until he too forgets.

"This isn't working." Alice dropped her pen, giving up on today's paperwork. She couldn't concentrate at all. Instead, she poured himself a glass of whisky and walked up the open chess set on a side table not far from his desk. She always leaved her chess game out. It relaxes her and helps her think. Sitting down in front of the white side of the chess board Alice started to move the pieces around.

"Next meeting … next meeting, hopefully, Alice will be gone and everything would be back to normal."

Alice smiled, glass of whisky in hand, green eyes trailing out the window. Only she would remember. And that's the way things should be. Smile turned into a smirk, she turned back to her chess board and picked up her king in all the nicely arranged white pieces.

The phone rang …

"Hello?"

"Oi, did something happen while I was gone?" Al's voice sounded worried. She couldn't blame him. What had happened was not something that should have happened. And she had played a very dangerous game in allowing the other nations to see her. A much more dangerous game than they could ever imagine.

"That, dear brother, I cannot tell. Secret."

"What? What are you talking about?! Is everything alright?"

"I don't know. I haven't gotten a chance to see the after-effects."

She hung up on her brother, and moved a black queen in the spot where the white king previously stood. One black piece in a board of white.

"The game is still on."

She laughed.

Arthur laughed.

* * *

_**Two weeks later.**_

The UN World Meeting was underway and taking place in Canada. In the middle of winter. Brilliant! Who had the bright idea of sending them to Canada during winter?! Arthur growled, in his mind stacking up a pile of things he wanted to say to the organiser of those bloody meetings. He should have sent Wales in his place. Dammit!

"Iggy!"

The Oh-so-irritating nickname America had invented for him rang loudly to his ears as Arthur walked down the corridors and towards the meeting room. He didn't even have to turn around as he felt Alfred's large arms wrap themselves around his shoulders and the American laugh loudly in his ear. Arthur's face showed nothing more than cold annoyance. As it always does.

"America, I would deeply appreciate it if you didn't butcher my name into some ridiculous nickname."

"Hey! It's not ridiculous! It's Japanese!"

"No, I'm pretty sure Japan never called me that and I know how to pronounce my name in Japanese."

"Yeah but I'm shortening it to make it cuter and funnier!"

Wrong answer. Alfred realised he shouldn't have said that as he was shot down by the deadly glare of his ex-coloniser. Arthur's emeralds looked down on the American (despite him being taller) before Arthur walked away and into the meeting room, leaving Alfred to follow with a sigh.

Why did England never take him seriously? Why did he never laughed at his tease and jokes? Why must he always look so annoyed whenever America tries to socialise with him? Special relationship? Nothing close to that! It's more of Stop-being-a-pest-America relationship! Alfred kept brooding those dark thoughts but as the meeting started his Super-hero ideas jumped in and he was back to being normal … and getting scolded by England. As usual.

Arthur rolled his eyes at yet another ridiculous idea of Alfred. His eyes trailed over the table. He noticed a lot of nations were absent. Pity. Why couldn't he have gotten sick at this meeting instead of the previous one? It would have gone unnoticed in the crowd of absent people. Arthur shook his head, dismissing the thought. What's done is done. Besides, he fixed everything so …

"Arturo!"

"Italy?" Arthur jumped as he heard the shooting Italian yell across the whole building, interrupting the meeting as he barged through the door and leaped onto the confused Englishman.

Many of the present nations watched and a lot of them were shooting deadly glares at the Italian. Arthur, confused as he was, tried to pry away from Italy's death grip around his neck. Italy, on the other hand, remained oblivious to the glares he received and Arthur's struggle. He was too busy recognising a familiar scent.

Is that Arthur's scent?

He smells nice …

Fresh rainy forests … salty sea waters … hints of roses and mint …

Uh.

Feliciano blinked as he was reminded of Alice's bedroom. It was the same scent. But it was Arthur's scent. Why? Why did they have the same scent? And eyes. And hair. And gorgeous looks. Feliciano felt his heart leap in his chest as he felt his eyes devour the Englishman he was holding. He truly loved England. But why did Albion also make his heart leap? Oh yes, he had loved Albion before too! But why … did it feel … familiar …

"I-Italy! What do you want?" Arthur hissed, trying to release himself and he ended up pulling Italy off his neck but onto his lap. The Italian blinked as he fell and landed seated on Arthur's lap.

More glares.

Arthur face-palmed but then looked inquisitively at the fidgeting nervous Italian. Was the lad … blushing? That can't be right. Well, what did he want now, anyway?

"Italy, what is it? And might I add, you're late for the meeting."

"Ve? Oh yes! The meeting! Sorry Germany!" Italy waved at his German friend who only face-palmed at the Italian's carefreeness. England mentally sympathised with the German but he could only smile indulgently at the Italian's typical behaviour. He really hadn't changed in all those years. Somehow … that innocence always made England's heart lighter and his mood brighter.

"Arturo! You promised to help!"

"Help? Oh right, you phoned about something a couple of weeks ago … what did you need again?"

"Ve! It's not that! Actually … I lost him!"

"Lost … who?"

"Nonno Roma! I lost Nonno on my way to the meeting!"

…

Oh shit.

* * *

The man in white glided down the quiet corridors of the empty castle. Well, not empty but when neither of the masters are here, the place feels empty. But then again, this fortress isn't meant to be a home. It's a security system. A vault to keep hidden secrets. A library of legends. Not even a real castle in itself either as you can look as many maps as you wish, you'll never find it.

But it's there. Definitely.

Waiting.

Waiting for their master's next visit.

As he walked past the very boring and very normal blue door, the white butler noticed something odd. He approached the door, his shadow shivered on the wall and the large rabbit figure ran off, fleeing from the unmoving door. The butler sighed at his fleeing shadow and returned his red gaze onto the crystal lock of the door.

Was it just him ... or is that a crack in the lock?

...

That can't be a good sign.

* * *

**AN: Well, that's it! No yes, really it's the end. I know it doesn't answer all your questions but I decided to split it into two stories. So don't worry there will be more about this story and I will need time to think about it but anyway, you get the idea that Arthur=Alice, right? I'll reveal how this is possible in the next story. For those interested, I'll put an Epilogue/Prologue after that to end this part and introduce the next one.**

**I don't know why but I thought sending Rome into the lot sounded fun. It's all very confusing I know. Hell, even in my head it makes no sense! But hey! Who needs rationality? Crazy's fun! Sanity's boring!**


	21. Epilogue

**Epilogue-Prologue: Memories we cherish**

**AN: So this is the conclusion and the introduction! I'm ending the ... say the first 'season' of Land of Legends and Secrets. And I'm starting the '2nd season'. Something like that. I just thought of cutting it down because it fits the story better. Originally, this fic was meant to end with Arthur not revealing his secret but I thought it would be unfair to leave you all in the dark.**

**So Land of Legends and Secrets - Mark 2 is going to come up and answer all the questions that I left pending in the first story. But since I needed a twist to actually start the new story ... well, I brought Rome in to serve as a catalyst for my new story. He's useful sometimes, isn't he?**

**Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! I hope this was satisfying and if not, like I said, there's a suite!**

* * *

_Beautiful emerald eyes blinked open for the very first time and the first thing they met was the intense crimson and identical emeralds. A smile welcomed her and the newly born child felt warm strong arms hold her close to a warm broad chest. It felt safe and familiar. She naturally snuggled closer, breathing in the scent of wild mountain flowers and wet wood after the rain. A large hand ruffled her mop of golden hair and a voice whispered in her untrained ear._

"_Welcome Albion. Welcome to the world my sister."_

_She let out a delighted laugh and the entire forest resonated in synch with it. In a world of green, the rain drummed down on them, celebrating the birth of a new life._

_And that is how it all began._

* * *

"_No! Alba! Cymru! Eir! Alba! ALBA! ALBA! ALBA!"_

_The calls sounded empty and lonely, cancelled out by the heavy tears of the sky. She felt scared and hurt. Her people's pain … she felt it like poison running through her body. Their cries of war and agony rang in her voice, driving her mad. And all she could see … was the intense crimson. But no emeralds. Just pure red._

_Blood._

_Her white robe was torn from her running in the woods. She could no longer feel the protection of her mother and father. Nothing. All she felt was the loud drumming of her heart and the dread growing in her as she witnessed disaster. She watched them fall. One after the other._

'_Don't get back up! Please! Don't! Don't fight! Stop! No more!'_

_Cymru was down first, his head hitting against a tree and his arm twisted in an unnatural way. He was breathing, thank the gods! Then Eir. He was sent flying, a deep cut across his face and left eye. It will probably leave a scar. But that was nothing compared to Alba._

_Alba._

_Alba._

_ALBA!_

"_ALBA!"_

_No matter how many times he got punched, cut, hit, kicked, slashed, the young red hair just wouldn't give up. The older man hissed in annoyance upon the pathetic sight of the boy getting back up once more. He was covered in blood as red as his hair and his emerald eyes glowed of an insane rage and battle-thirst. The taller and older man smirked despite his irritation. He had to congratulate the determination of the young nation. Brave young little nation. Foolish little nation. So foolish._

"_You should have stayed down, boy. I'm not here for you. You know what I am looking for now hand her over."_

_Alba growled but his throat burned with each sound he made and he barely managed to breathe. Having Rome crush his throat was not really helpful in making him talk, was it? Not that he would talk either way! He'd rather be sent to hell! Instead, the boy spat at the Roman's face, earning himself a dark angry glare from the golden eyes of the invader._

"_Foolish boy."_

_The screams resonated across the mountains and the land cried in agony. She watched in horror as Rome purposefully broke one by one the boy's limbs. Slowly starting with the legs and finishing with the arms, and each time, he would take his sweet time so that Alba truly felt the pain and agonised as much as possible. Before breaking each limb, Rome would repeat his question but Alba never answered. Silently, the boy prayed his sister had time to escape._

"_With this, you won't be getting back up anymore."_

"_FUCK YOU!" the boy yelled with a broken voice. The Roman stared down on him, an insane look in his eyes as he smiled eerily._

"_Is that so? Maybe I should silence you permanently, little pest that you are!"_

_The blade rose high. Alba watched with fearful eyes at the sword as it moved towards his neck. This was it. He was going to die. And nothing can protect him anymore. Slowly accepting his fate, the boy watched the blade grow closer. It all felt like time went into slow motion. Maybe that's why he was shocked to see a flash of gold and white. He didn't even have time to shout and could only stare with horrified wide eyes._

_Rome's eye twitched and he restrained the shivers of his body, his golden eyes frightfully staring at the small druid child. Golden long strands of hair fell to the ground along with drops of blood. But standing tall and protective, Albion held her arms open and her position in front of her fallen brother. Her hair had been cut short and a cut ran down her cheek, blood sipping out of the wound. Her neck held a soft grazing mark and had barely avoided the impact had Rome not changed the trajectory of his blade at the last minute. Her cat-like emerald eyes glowed brighter than any jewel on the planet or any star in the universe. Her white robe tainted of blood._

_Not her blood._

_Rome's golden eyes met the furious emeralds of the young girl and he could not understand why he felt his world stumble or his body freeze. He felt his pulse accelerate and … was that fear he felt? Impossible. Not from such a young nation barely able to stand on her two feet! And a woman at that! A barbaric woman from the north barely able to stand as a shield for her pathetic excuse of a protector. He could not be afraid of that!_

"_ALBION! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND! WHY DIDN'T YOU HIDE LIKE WE TOLD YOU! YOU SHOULD HAVE RUN! RUN! RUN ALBION! AL- …" The desperate boy silenced his broken voice as he felt a soft hand caress his cheek fondly. Albion smiled at him warmly and kissed his forehead._

"_Alistair … I'll protect you. All of you. It's my fault. I'll fix it. I'll fix it all and you won't have to be in pain anymore. I promise." She kissed him again, on his lips this time. Not a lover's kiss. Nothing of the sort. She was simply sealing a promise. This was a promise she made to her most precious person in the whole world: her brother._

"_Aly … please don't … don't you dare …!"_

"_I love you, Alba. And I love Cymru and Eir too. And Mum and Dad. And I love you the most! So …"_

_She silenced for a short moment, emeralds boring into emeralds. Time seemed to stop before Albion spoke her last words._

"_Please live."_

_With that said, the small 7 year old looking girl walked away and towards Rome, leaving the 14 year old boy to his despair. He called her desperately but she never turned back once. He cried her name but his tears melted away with the rain. He cursed the smirking man carrying his precious sister away but his body remained frozen to the ground. And after that, all was left was the painful silence of defeat. And he cried. And cried. And cried._

* * *

"_I didn't think you'd show up to me of your own will!" The Roman smiled amused at his new conquest. He didn't know why his sister had requested him to check on that child but he didn't regret it. The blond girl was adorable. Especially wrapped up in chains and glaring savagely and hatefully at him. Cute as a wild kitten~!_

"_Remember our deal, Roman." Her voice sounded too mature for the childish pitch it held but then again, nations evolve differently from normal humans. Despite being in the body of a child, the mind could be one of an adult. Rome hummed a chuckle._

"_Who would have thought? That all I had to do to make you mine was the break down your precious brothers!"_

"_Our deal!" She hissed threateningly, causing the man to laugh loudly._

"_Do not fluster yourself, kitten. I will hold true to my word. I shall not harm either of your siblings as long as I obtain your full cooperation as my loyal servant."_

"… _Yes Master." Albion bowed her head and shed a silent tear that she refused to show her new master. In her mind, she could still hear her brother's cries calling for her._

_He shall be safe and the blood shed for her safety shall be repaid by her own. Nothing else matters._

* * *

Ever since a year ago, strange things have occurred in Feliciano Vargas' life.

1 - He's the only one who remembers the death-games with Alice in that freaky castle

2 - He realised that he's in love with Arturo but recently rediscovered the memory of his lost forgotten love Albion, also known as Alicia

3 - Can the dead come back to life? Because …

"Nonno! Where the fuck did you put my laptop, dammit?!"

"The hell are you calling 'Nonno'?! I'm the Roman Empire! Don't you forget it, squirt!"

"I don't give a fuck, just give me back my fucking laptop!"

"I don't have your devilish device thing!"

"Sure you don't! I saw you look up porn on it the other night!"

"What's wrong with admiring beautiful women?"

"Do it on Stupido's laptop, you pervert! You're worse than France!"

"Who the fuck is France?"

And it went on and on and on until Feliciano called them both for either lunch or dinner. Really … things could not get any weirder. Not only did his long-dead Nonno return to life (and was speaking only Latin which doesn't help in the world considering it's a dead language) but he also seemed to have come back younger than Feliciano has ever seen him. This was not his Nonno. Not yet. This was still a young Rome in the early prime of his Empire. He still hadn't conquered others except current Italy and Greece. And of course, he doesn't know a thing about his future heirs. The only reason the old nation hasn't left the house in over a year is because nobody aside from Lovino and Feliciano spoke Latin.

"I hope Arturo finds a way to fix this soon …"

* * *

_**Flash back of a year ago in Canada ...**_

Arthur blinked in shock and Feliciano almost saw fear in his green eyes as the man came face to face with the younger version of the Roman Empire. He barely looked older than his early twenties and was scowling a dark glare similar to Lovino's if not darker, when the memory of the Roman Empire in Feliciano and everyone's mind is of a cheery man in his late thirties.

"Who the hell are you people?" The old nation spat coldly in Latin. Needless to say only a handful of nations understood him.

Oddly enough Arthur understood him, which surprised most Latin-speakers. Feliciano tilted his head as he heard the blonde Englishman answer back to the Empire.

"The future. And you've clearly been dragged out of your time frame by someone. We'll need to send you back." Arthur's tone was harsher and colder than Rome's and the (future) older man must have noticed as he suddenly showed _some_ interest in _someone_ since the moment he woke up in this future world. His eyes looked Arthur down, gauging him, and Feliciano felt a twinge of anger at the wandering look in his (future) grandfather's golden eyes.

"The future? You people? Nations?"

"Yes. And I'll send you back personally."

"_Personally_? Hm … does that mean I get to know you _personally_?" Rome's face turned from furious and threatening to teasing and seductive. Much to many nations' surprise (and anger) but Arthur barely lifted an eyebrow at the comment.

Nothing new here. That's definitely Rome.

The blonde smirked back and took a step closer to the Roman. For a split second, Rome didn't understand what was happening and he suddenly felt his toga being yanked forward and his face inches away from the smiling face of the Englishman, an eerie aura of promised death emanating from the blonde.

"You'd be wise not to try and get too personal with me … you'll most likely regret it." The British Empire purred and was glad to see the Roman shiver slightly. Arthur then turned his emerald eyes to the worried Italian nation.

"I need to make a call. Give me one year and I'll get him back to where he came from."

Feliciano nodded, unable to speak another word as he watched the growing darkness invade Arthur's beautifully featured face. He didn't like seeing Arturo angry. He wanted to see Arturo smile. And be happy.

"Bloody Latin wanker just couldn't stay in his bloody timeline!" Arthur mumbled to himself but Feliciano heard him. The Italian could only wonder how Arthur knew Rome, and how to speak Latin. Now that his memory was fully recovered, Feliciano was well aware that Alicia - Albion is still alive and was taken over by Rome years ago. But not Arthur - England.

Feliciano shook his head and turned to see his (future) grandfather staring at Arturo's lower-back.

This is not going to be an easy year.

* * *

The tall man in white checked his pocket watch, the golden chain hanging from his waist-coat polished to a perfect shine. Midnight. It's time. He claps his hands, the candles light up. He points at the cold fire place, roaring flames rise. He glances at the table, dishes blink into existence all more succulent than the other. He snaps his fingers, the piano's keys come to life and a soothing melody invades the castle. Standing proudly at the door, he smiles in satisfaction at his work before facing back to the large wooden doors. Moving into a bow, the doors opened and revealed to him the approaching figures.

"Welcome home My Lady."

She smiled. Her hair looked shorter. Had she cut it again?

"I'm home." She spoke and walked in followed by another man.

"Master? Will you be staying too?"

"Just dropped her off. I have to attend parliament tomorrow. You'll manage, right?" He asked while glancing worriedly at her. He always worried, even after all those years. She nods.

"I haven't died of boredom yet." She joked lightly but that only increased his sadness and a guilty expression took over his facial features.

"I'll find a way to make it permanent one day …" He mumbled more to himself but he soon fell silent at the touch of the girl's hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry. I can manage. Go. Meeting." She shoes him out and closes the doors herself.

Leaning against the closed doors, she waits until she hears the distinct sound of the man's vanishing, the sound of a firecracker followed by a soft hum and a blue light. Once she was sure that he was gone, the girl turned back to her butler. Tall, white, pocket watch in hand and red eyes awaiting his orders. She smiles.

"Let's go bunny, I'm starving."

The sky outside was clear blue and the sun shone as bright a golden as her hair. The man grinned maliciously and motioned her towards the dining room.

"At your orders, Mistress."


End file.
